Love in My Box
by cosmoandmarvar
Summary: Bella's an intellectual free spirit and Edward is a reserved, slightly geeky med student. They have a brief, but intense encounter on Sp Brk in Miami. Can they find true love through emails? There will be lemons and laughs. Look who's writing this!
1. Prologue

**A/N**

_We don't own them. We just wanted to get them drunk and make them have sex._

_EPOV by Marvar_

_BPOV by Cosmogirl7481_

Marvar: So, this is my thinly-veiled attempt to have cyber-sex with Cosmo.

Cosmogirl7481: I totes want to fuck her for real, but I'll settle for this right now.

Marvar: We'll have to wait until Comic-Con.

Cosmogirl7481: Awesome. *looks for vibrators and lube*

Marvar: Do they let you have vibrators as your carry-on?

Cosmogirl7481: Yes. But with the amount I'll be bringing…we'll have to pay extra.

Marvar: Totally worth it. But, trust me. You won't need lube. I'll bring my copy of Details.

Cosmogirl7481: Good. My copy will be worn out by then.

Marvar: I think we'll have to act out some of the scenes to see if they're realistic.

Cosmogirl7481: I'm all about 'research' for the good of our craft.

**Prologue**

From: Edward Masen  
To: Isabella Swan  
Re: Recent sexual encounter

Dear Bella,

I hope you are indeed the same Isabella Swan I met in Miami on March 12. If you aren't, I apologize and you may delete this message forthwith.

If you are indeed her, I pray that you are well.

What is the weather like in Berkeley? Never mind, I can Google it. I don't know why I'm asking inane questions when I really just want to know if we could start communicating with each other.

After you left, you know, that morning, I've thought about you. I wanted to find you, but all I knew was your name and what college you went to. I had to do quite a bit of investigation to find you. Luckily I'm well versed in Berkeley's computer operating system. A few clicks, a buffer overflow, and a backdoor, and there you were. Incidentally, your ID photo is quite flattering.

I'm hoping you have been thinking about me, too. I'd like to think that's true.  
If you are worried that I'm crazy, let me tell you something about myself.  
I'm 24, single (obviously), have excellent personal hygiene (as you well know) ;) and not an insane stalker person. My mother says I'm quite polite and charming. My sister calls me an introvert and tells me that I "need some fun in my life." Hence, the trip to Miami and the aforementioned encounter. Not that meeting you was just 'fun.' It was . . . more. More than I can express through an email.

I play piano, read, and volunteer at the hospital in my spare time - see, nothing weird. I also play soccer to keep physically fit.

As I told you - I hope you remember - I'm a fouth-year medical student at Dartmouth. That keeps me quite busy. . .but not too busy for you.

Um, what else should I say? My friend would say I'm not much of a conversationalist, but I want to tell you everything, Bella.

Just ask.

I hope you don't think me strange for emailing you like this, but I have this feeling I can't explain. It's like an ache in my chest. I had a cardiogram, which revealed no abnormalities. All follow up tests ruled out any type of medical condition. I also had a full battery of tests which proved me to be free from all sexually transmitted diseases. I hope this pleases you (My classmates and I used my dilemma as a learning opportunity during our lab).

Therefore, I have concluded that since this pain began the day you left me, it must be related somehow. I'm considering writing a paper about it.

So, Bella, please tell me you'll correspond with me. Just try to get to know me.

Sincerely,

Edward Masen

PS. What type of lotion do you use? I would like to purchase some. For my sister, of course.

From: Isabella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Re: Recent sexual encounter

Dear Edward,

Wow.

I don't know what to say.

I guess I should start with the fact that yes, I am the Bella you met in Miami on March 12th.

I am doing well. Thank you for asking, but really, there is no need to pray. I never do. If you are, however, in the habit of talking to god, please tell her hello. We haven't spoken in years.

You really want to communicate with me? I wasn't sure that you would want that, after what happened, or rather…the way it happened.

I'm sorry I left the way I did that morning. I want to explain myself, truly I do. Just, maybe not now. Would that be okay?

I'm impressed that you actually found me. I feel flattered that you would even take the time to look.

I should tell you a little about myself, as well. It's only fair. After all, you did go first.

I'm twenty-two and I started graduate school at Berkeley this year. (I guess you know that, though.)

I am getting my masters in Women's Literature. I'm not a lesbian, I hate Birkenstocks and I do shave my underarms…as well as other things. (But, I guess you know that, too.)

I'm pretty boring. I like to read a lot. You probably don't think that's sexy, but I guess I feel like I should be honest with you. I mean, you might not want to continue communicating with me once you know more.

That girl that you met in Miami isn't really who I am. I mean…it was me, but it was me with copious amounts of Jack Daniels and Diet Coke. I'm not usually like that. In fact, I don't usually drink. I don't know what got into me that night.

Your email is probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I almost didn't respond, but my roommate is always telling me that I need to branch out more, do more exciting and adventurous things. This feels exciting and adventurous to me.

I would like to keep corresponding with you via email. I think it was a very romantic gesture. Thank you for making it.

You said that you hadn't been able to stop thinking about me now and you asked if I thought about you. I want you to know that I have thought about you on more than one occasion. I think about you, still. I hope that's not too much.

You told me to ask questions. Well, here is my first one: Why, out of all the girls in the bar that night, did you choose to talk to me? I really want to know.

Sincerely,

Bella

P.S. I think I was wearing suntan lotion the night I met you. It smells like coconut. I'm sure your sister has some already.

**A/N**

Reviews are lovely, but we're going to talk dirty to each other anyway.

Marvar: We hope to update regularly. If we could write chapters as much as we text, we'd have a freaking novel already.

Cosmogirl7481: We _will_ update regularly, because I will make sure that Marvar stays completely motivated. *looks for whipping bench and flogger*


	2. Re: Wet Keyboards and Burning Bushes

**A/N**

Marvar: Wow! The response for the first chapter was overwhelming. Thanks to everyone who read and favorited and reviewed. Unlike Cosmo, I'm not used to such a response – like five people read my other fic – and Cosmo is one of them.

Cosmogirl7481: The response was wonderful. But, I knew it would be because 'Forthwithward' is fucking awesome and I and everyone else is in love with him already. Bella (and by Bella, I mean me) is the only one who gets to send him emails. And I love your fic…especially when Jasper and Edward wrestle. *sighs*

Marvar: I'm glad I could pull Cosmo from the slores to write me or I wouldn't have my inspiration. Forthwithward needs a muse.

Cosmogirl7481: I will gladly be his muse...and your a(muse)ment.

Marvar: We need to stop, because Edward is getting all sweaty and needs a shower.

Cosmogirl7481: Alright...but only if I can join him. My last shower with Edward didn't end so well.

**Chapter 1 Re: Wet Keyboards and Burning Bushes**

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Romantic Gesture

Dear Bella,

I can't tell you how excited I was to see your name in my inbox this morning. I was afraid, after the way you left, that you would not reciprocate my interest in pursuing a 'friendship.' After reading your email I was even more thrilled, if that is possible.

I didn't even dry myself off properly (I had just showered after my soccer practice). That's how eager I was to read your reply (a wet keyboard is an accident waiting to happen).

So you think god is a woman, huh? I don't have any feeling on this matter because no one has provided me with empirical data to support any hypothesis of merit.

Women's Literature is your major? I took one course during undergrad. I found the Bronte sisters to be quite entertaining - although I believe _Wuthering Heights_ is overrated.

I'm glad to hear that you are not a heavy drinker. Recreational imbibing is quite normal, but habitual use can deteriorate your liver severely. I can share some studies on that with you. As far as not knowing what "got into you" that night, I hope you remember, um, that it was me. Right? ? I mean, I didn't get it all the way in, but I can try harder next time. I really hope there _will be_ a next time.

Reading is one of my joys. I'm pleased to hear that you share my passion. The image of you with a book – well, unsexy is the last word I'd use. I think that will go into my 'Bella file.'

Email is my primary source of communication, and no one has ever called me romantic before – especially not a woman. You are unlike most women I have met (that is a good thing). If writing to you makes you feel that special, I am beyond ecstatic and I will continue to write - with great alacrity.

Although I am 24, I have not had many relationships and they have been wholly unsuccessful. I am willing to learn, Bella. I can't explain why, but I never had the urge to work at a relationship before. Now I've met you, and I'm hacking into state records just to get your email address.

To answer your question – I picked you because you are the loveliest woman I had ever seen. Period. The other women in the bar were faceless. . .nameless. . . non-existent. You shone like a bright star across my universe. I hope that wasn't too corny. My thoughts may be trite, but they are completely sincere.

As you know, I don't really have a "suave" way of speaking to women. That's one of the reasons why I spend so much time alone. My ex-girlfriend said I didn't have any 'game' (among other things) when she broke up with me. After I realized that she wasn't talking about soccer, I consulted the Urban Dictionary online and realized that she was correct. I don't have 'game.'

(meaning-a measure of smoothness with the opposite sex; lines or moves you use to get the opposite sex into bed)

Please don't hold that against me.

You don't have to talk about why you left, yet. I would like to hear the reasons. . . eventually.

To hear that you have been thinking about me is more than I had hoped for.

Thank you.

My question to you is,

Why would someone so beautiful even respond to my pathetic ramblings?

P.S. I used to hate coconut. Now it's my favorite scent.

Sincerely,

Edward (Masen)

* * * * *

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Your 'Game'

Dear Edward,

I want you to know that I am sitting on a bench on campus responding to your email. And I am smiling…grinning actually. I just got out of my first class this morning and I couldn't wait to get back to my apartment to reply. Does that make me sound crazy, or just a little over-excited?

To be honest, I wasn't sure if you would respond either. I mean, I hoped you would, but after the things that I told you…I don't know…I just thought that maybe you were more interested in (that) girl and not this one. This girl's heart is beating in her chest right now at just the thought of you sitting at you computer…wet. And you're right, that is a safety hazard. Please don't do it again. You can sit wet somewhere else. The bed would be a completely safe and appropriate place for you to be wet…and naked…after your shower.

To answer one of your questions, I don't really think that god is woman. I just don't know that she isn't. I mean, god could just as easily be a woman instead of a man. We all know that it was a bunch of men that wrote the Bible. There are only two books that feature women as the central characters. And both of those books were most likely written by men to begin with. And I probably shouldn't even get started on those stories. At any rate, until I am proven wrong by some burning bush, I choose to see god as a woman. Women are far more compassionate and understanding than men anyway. It would be better for god to be a woman…if you asked me. Which you did. :)

(Sorry. I tend to be passionate about certain subjects.)

So, you found the Bronte sisters _entertaining_? I don't even know where to begin with that. Unless of course, by _entertaining_, you meant brilliant, thought-provoking and ahead of their time. Is that what you meant by _entertaining_? I'm also going to assume that when you said that you thought _Wuthering Heights_ was overrated…you were joking and trying to make me laugh. (Because I did.)

Edward, I definitely remember that you "got into" me that night. (In more ways than one.)

And maybe you didn't 'get in' all the way…to be completely honest…I wasn't sure you would fit. God, this is embarrassing.

I'm happy to know that you enjoy reading. Truly. It is one of the things I take the most pleasure in. There is so much that you can derive from a good book. You've imagined me with a book? In your imagination, what am I reading? Is it a sexy book?

I'm happy to know that you like the idea of emails. It's the way I'm most comfortable right now. And it allows me a little imagery of my own. The idea that you would write me letters, albeit electronic letters, is romantic. Thank you for not making fun of me and for making the gesture.

It makes me a little happy to know that you don't have a lot of experience in the relationship department. I've only ever had one serious boyfriend, so I don't have much experience either. And I'm glad to know that I'm unlike most of the women you've met. If what you've told me about your ex-girlfriend is true…I wouldn't want to be anything like her.

I don't know what the online urban dictionary is (I'll probably look it up.) but, there is nothing wrong with your 'game' Edward. Your 'game' is just fine. In fact, I would have to say that, so far…you've already scored a few points and your team is winning.

Thank you for your answer to my question. It made me blush uncontrollably, but maybe you should know that I'm not really anything that special at all. Your words…well, let's just say that I would take sincere over 'suave' any day. And Edward, you should know that you're smoother than you think.

Thank you for calling me beautiful. I'm not. I'm just a normal, shy girl that gave you the wrong first-impression. But, to answer your last question, your ramblings aren't pathetic. They were sweet and honest and I liked them very much. I'm responding because I think you want me to…and for a reason I can't explain, I want to do something that would make you happy. But also, I'm responding because I want to continue. I'd really like to get to know you better.

My next question: What were you really going to use the lotion for?

Genuinely,

Bella

P.S.

I still want to tell you about that morning…thank you for giving me time.

* * * * *

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Genuine Bella

Dear Bella,

You responded so quickly to my email. I can't tell you how pleased I am to learn that you are not a procrastinator. Even better than that was the knowledge that I brought a smile to your lovely countenance. You see, that is the image of you that is most vivid in my mind - your smile and the way your cheeks flush – beautiful. You are. Trust me.

What do you mean that you hoped that I wasn't more interested in (that) girl than (this) girl? I don't detect any hints of multiple-personality disorder, so I'm unsure of what you mean. You are the same awe-inspiring Bella to me.

Please do not worry about my wet body. I assure you that I dry very thoroughly – I dislike chafing. I use a very absorbent towel and air dry for good measure.

Writing on the bed is bad for your posture, so I type at my desk, but thank you for the suggestion. Might I suggest you get an ergonomic chair for your desk?

I see you are a very passionate person. Are you on the debate team? I believe you would fare quite well in that medium. I have very few thoughts on god, but you have given me some ideas to ruminate over.

As for the Bronte sisters, I believe I struck a nerve. I will defer to your obviously greater knowledge base (Lit. major) and just agree to disagree. No. I was not trying to make you laugh; I rarely make attempts at humor.

I'm glad you remembered me. . .and everything, though I wish it had been more pleasurable for you. I'm sorry if I was inadequate in any way. I blame my lack of experience for my shortcomings. Rest assured, I am currently studying to rectify this situation – and I am a very good student. (I hope I don't appear immodest by that statement)

Thank you for saying I have 'game.' You make me act like a different person. Most people perceive me as an 'Edwardbot' - a study machine without friends. I do actually have one friend named Emmett who says I "have a stick up my ass." (Please forgive the swearing. It was a direct quote.) I'm attempting to loosen up and be more fun under his guidance. His first idea (to go to Miami) was unbelievably successful. I am also attempting to use the Urban Dictionary's word of the day to appear more fun in my everyday conversations.

So, on that note. . . Bella, you have a fantastic body. . . you definitely don't have a 'muffin top.' (fat hanging over your waistband).

Bella, you _are_ special. I made a list of relevant facts as evidence:

*You are the only person who has ever called me romantic, or suave, or smooth. Most days I'm the direct antithesis of these descriptors.

*You are unlike other women (this is positive and the very definition of 'special')

*You are NOTHING like my ex-girlfriend.

*You are intelligent and honest.

*You are beautiful inside and out.

To answer your question about the lotion, I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I wanted to recapture your scent, which has haunted me since that night. I hope you don't think me creepy for admitting that.

My question to you: Do I have a chance?

With great affection,

Edward (Masen)

P.S.

I picture you under a tree with your hair flowing down your back, your bottomless brown eyes focused on the open book in your lap. It doesn't matter what title. . . you are the sexy part.

* * * * *

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Affectionate Edward

Dear Edward,

I'm glad my promptness pleased you. I cannot say, without deception, that I am not inclined to procrastination. I usually am in most areas of my life. I still haven't even unpacked my luggage from Miami in the two weeks that I've been back. (I hope that you aren't too disappointed.) I can say, with much enthusiasm, that I am quick to take action…if sufficiently motivated. And Edward, you definitely inspire responsiveness from me…in more ways than one.

Speaking of responsiveness – my blush has always embarrassed me and made me terribly self-conscious. But, to know that you took pleasure in it…well, let's just say that right now, you would be delighted. Thank you for the lovely compliment. You really are quite charming.

I wouldn't say that I worry about your wet body. Would you mind knowing that I think about it? I also thought about you playing soccer, but that just led me back to thinking about you getting wet as you played soccer. At any rate, I'm glad you dry yourself off thoroughly. Chafing doesn't ever feel good. Lotion, however, is a great way to prevent chafing. Maybe you could use some of the lotion you recently procured?

I am a very, um, passionate person. (By the way, I loved your use of alliteration.) I have never been on a debate team. I hope you don't find me argumentative. I really wasn't trying to be. I don't think about god often either. It was more like a tangent. Sometimes my mouth overrules my mind and I often speak without thinking. You seem like the kind of person that always thinks about what they should say. I wish I was more like that.

Of course I remembered you…and _everything_. How could I forget? It was pleasurable, Edward. What gave you the impression that it wasn't? I hope it wasn't something I did. I was really nervous that night and I hope, well, I hope that it was pleasurable for you, too. It was, wasn't it? Was it? Also, I'm a little concerned about what you meant when you said that you are "studying to rectify the situation." You don't have a study-partner, do you? That would not make me rest easy. I assure you.

You do have game, Edward. So much so, that over the course of the last couple days I find myself smiling as I think of you and looking forward your emails and whatever you have to say inside them. As far as your friend Emmett trying to loosen you up…I think that you should always be true to yourself. Whoever you are. But, I'm all for him guiding you if his direction was what led you to me. But, you didn't seem stiff except for, well…you know. But that was a good thing. (Very good.)

Thank you for listing the reasons you think I'm special. I think you're special, as well. I don't make lists often. Not even shopping lists. I will go to the market for bread and soymilk and get distracted by something else. I inevitably forget the soymilk and the whole process repeats itself.

I'm happy that you don't think I'm like your ex-girlfriend. She sounds like a bitch. You should also know that I don't really mind the swearing. I say fuck all the time. Fuck. I hope you're not offended by that word.

I didn't find it creepy that you asked about my lotion. (I knew what you wanted it for.) I just wanted you to admit it. Personally, I think that's really hot. And saying that my fragrance haunted you…well, honestly, Mr. Masen, that was a very _Bronte-esque _description. I think that maybe you should give the sisters another try. I wouldn't mind reading _Wuthering Heights_ to you underneath a tree. Or even _Jane Eyre_…if you preferred. I think that it _and_ I would be much sexier if you were there, too.

My next question: Is that your natural hair color? I've never met anyone with such coppery hair. Also, do you use gel? It looked like a perfect mess, but when I ran my fingers through it…it was so soft.

Also with much affection,

Bella

P.S.

To answer your question: Of course you have a chance…you've had one all along.

* * * * *

**A/N**

Reviewers get emails from Edward "in their box."

Marvar: People like our texts.

Cosmogirl7481: I know. Some reviewers want them to be a fic!!!

Marvar: It would be so dirty.

Cosmogirl7481: And fuckhot. I'd read it!

Marvar: For reals.

Cosmogirl7481: *imagining clit-licks*


	3. Re: Bambi Eyes Meets Copper Top

A/N

Marvar: I'm really loving writing this story. I get to use the vocab. words I've been holding on to for the 20 years since I took AP English.

Cosmogirl7481: I really love writing this story because vocabulary words turn me on…almost as much as SR and his elbow sucking. :)

Marvar: Don't bring other people into this relationship. We already have enough 'favors' to do.

Cosmogirl7481: You were the one who suggested a threesome with Kassiah first.

Marvar: LOL True.

Cosmogirl7481: And while we're on this subject, we totes owe Caren for her fuckawesome pimping of LiMB this week.

Marvar: Foursome?

Cosmogirl7481: I think they'd be into that. So, yeah. But what about SR?

Marvar: You can keep him on the side.

Cosmogirl7481: Mostly, I just want him to read to me…slowly by the fire.

Marvar: I know. *jealous*

Cosmogirl7481: Don't be jealous. His ass will never be as hot as yours.

**Chapter 2 Re: When Bambi Eyes Met Copper Top**

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Alliteration and Attraction

Glorious biddings, Bella Boo,

I have a smile on my face just because you have responded to me. It's not dazzling like yours, (my smile is crooked - I lack symmetry in my facial features) but it's genuine. Getting to know you through email has become the bright spot to my day - a single point of light in a sea of darkness. Interesting how I'm always describing you with celestial metaphors, isn't it? Lately, I seem to be inspired. Maybe you actually appreciate my use of literary devices? You would be the first.

Did you like the coupling of alliteration and the Urban Dictionary's WOtD? Incidentally, boo= term of endearment or girlfriend (I'm currently using the first definition, but if you are so inclined I would eventually love to use the second).

Let me know if it's too much. I'm trying to break from the rigid confines of my limited personality. In this new spirit of flexibility, I didn't cringe (much) when I read you hadn't unpacked your luggage after two weeks or didn't make lists. Normally, this information might cause me some anxiety, but that was "old Edward." My sister says I can be charming if I make an effort. And henceforth, I will be making extra effort to charm the pants off you. (I mean that figuratively, though if it were literal, it would be a bonus).

I methodically check my inbox just to see if you've responded to me. Yes, I enjoy your responsiveness - in all ways. I hope that doesn't sound obsessive. Just eager. I can't tell you how much I have enjoyed learning about you through our written discourse. You are fascinating to me.

So you like profanity, huh? I do not use it much in my daily conversations, but I can see its usefulness. I can think of at least one situation where hearing you utter a certain four-letter word would be incredibly. . . hot.

You ramble? I think not. Your charm and effervescence shine through even in email. How I wish I could have had some more time talking to you. . . I mean, most of our time together was not spent talking - not that I regret a single second.

I most assuredly am not "studying" with anyone else. Please do not ever think I would treat you in such a way. Although we are merely corresponding by email, I must say I cannot think of anyone but you. I like that you don't want me to. What I meant was I'm learning about female anatomy in order to achieve my maximum potential. I appreciate you saying that you enjoyed our night together, but we both know that you did not get the 'full experience.'

So if I may ask without seeming untoward - you like me… _stiff_? And wet from the shower, too? Bella, I think you are flirting with me. I like it. More than I can say. Does it please you to know that I take many showers? Lately some of them have been cold. I need to get the water heater checked.

Yes, I would let you read anything to me under a tree. And you would be sexier. Infinitely. (Just because of the proximity, all of my senses would be heightened.)

My question: Are you attracted to me, Bella? In _that _way? Just to let you know, I am – unbelievably so – since the first moment I saw you.

With anticipation,

Edward (Masen)

P.S. This is my real hair color. I'm glad you think it's soft. You can touch it anytime.

* * * * *

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Celestial Charm

Dear Edward,

I'm so glad that you're smiling and I'm especially glad that it's genuine. I should probably tell you that your 'crooked' smile was one of the first things that attracted me to you. When you looked down at me, you know…after you spilled your drink…well, your smile made me forget that I was covered in scotch. Also, some things are better when they're (slightly) crooked.

I like the way you describe me, although I think you might have a slightly skewed sense of perception where I am concerned. (Seeing as how you were slightly inebriated the last time you _actually_ saw me.) I don't know about a 'single point of light.' I'm more like a lite-brite…somewhat sparkly and kind of fun to play with. And Edward, I do appreciate your literary devices (almost as much as your crooked smile). Including the WoTD. I don't know how well 'Boo' actually suits me, but I really like the meaning of the word. Both meanings.

I agree with your sister on the point that you are charming, though I think she is wrong about having to make an effort. I find your charm effortless and endearing. Please don't feel as though you have to try too hard with me. I like you Edward, much in the way that Mark Darcy liked Bridget Jones…just the way you are. Have you ever read that book or seen the movie? And as far as charming the pants off me is concerned, well…you already did that once. By the way, I'm sorry we had such a hard time with that. Skinny jeans can be tricky. Especially when they're wet.

You really check your inbox all the time? Really? I thought it was just me. I finally had my email account set up to deliver directly to my iPhone so that I could make sure I always get your emails as soon as you send them. It makes me happy to know that you look forward to our correspondence. I think that there is something really romantic about getting to know each other this way. Don't you agree?

I don't know that I would say that I 'like' profanity…just that I use it a lot. It's a force of habit, I suppose. If you hang out in coffee houses with moody and emo pseudo-poets long enough, your vocabulary can become quite vulgar. (I went through a phase during undergrad.) It was unfortunate and I have since learned my lesson. Men who hang out in coffee houses aren't artistic and tortured…they're douche-bags. In an effort to please you, I have abstained from cursing since my last email. I hope that makes you happy. Does it?

Anyway, I'm much more interested in this certain 'situation' where you think it would be _hot_ for me to say a dirty word. What situation would that be? What dirty word would you like me to use? I think it would be _scorching _hot for you to tell me…in detail. Be descriptive. This would be a great way to make use of your literary devices.

I'm happy to know that you aren't 'studying' with anyone else. I mean, I know that we are just typing and getting to know each other, but Edward, I think about you all the time. It pleases me to know that you are thinking of me, too. If you have a question about the female anatomy, you could always just ask me. I do have all the 'girl-parts' you're trying to learn about. Also…please don't worry about my not getting the 'full experience.' I assure you…the partial one was enough to intrigue me…obviously.

To answer your question…in case the flirting didn't give it away. I'm very attracted to you Edward. Body, mind and soul. (All of which are beautiful...including your soft and natural hair.)

My next question: What kind of doctor are you going to be?

Anxiously awaiting your response,

Bella (Boo)

P.S.

(Also female anatomy lesson #1)

Whenever you call me sexy and tell me that I can run my fingers through your hair…it makes me wet. And not the kind of wet that comes from showers or soccer.

* * * * *

**March 11, 2010**

**EPOV**

"Brown hair, Bambi eyes, rocking body -three 'o clock. Shit, she just glanced at you Edward, you might have a shot," my best friend Emmett speaks with a touch of incredulity in his voice.

Emmett means well but his taste in women is suspect. After all, he introduced me to Jessica.

"I can find my own women, thank you," I huff and look in the opposite direction. I take a swig of the swill the barkeep is calling wine these days.

"Jesus, Ed, can you order a more manly drink? Like a pina colada or something? The chicks are going to think you're playing for the wrong team," he mutters over his yard of beer. It is quite literally a yard. How do people drink this much?

"Emmett, you know I'm not much of a drinker. I don't like to lose control of my faculties."

"Edward, need I remind you we came here because you told me you wanted to do that very thing?"

I open my mouth to retort, but Emmett is correct. Jessica used me and dumped me, taking my self-esteem along with her and leaving her designer imposter perfume. This trip is about making an attempt to divest myself from the loser persona she has saddled me with in her quest for 'something better.'

'Touché, Emmett. I'm up for anything."

"Excellent! First, let's order a guy drink." He tells the waitress to bring us two scotches. "Wine is for middle-aged women and pansies." Emmett lays down cash for the drinks.

"But what about 'in vino veritas?'

"Ok, secondly, turn down the 'nerd' to just 'slightly geeky,' and who said we were going for the truth?"

"You knew that?"

"What the fuck, Edward? I'm a senior at Dartmouth. Am I supposed to be a moron?"

He has no tact, but he's one hundred percent correct. I underestimate him constantly on his intellect. His prowess with women however is not up for discussion. He is light years ahead of me in that regard. He has a PhD in 'pussy' and I am a freshman at Loner Community College. He talks; I listen to his advice on women. I resist the urge to take comprehensive notes.

While I'm drinking this rubbing alcohol that's passing for liquor, my eyes catch a heavenly figure crossing the other side of the bar. I stop everything. Emmett notices and says, "Ed, I pointed her out to you earlier. You never listen."

Yes, it's the aforementioned Bambi eyes. I really need to stop calling her that since I am against the objectification of women. If I listened to Emmett, I could have talked to her sooner. Yeah right, who am I kidding? She probably has five guys waiting for her at her table. My eyes follow her path - no, it's only another incredible-looking women. They must travel in pairs. I'm not encouraged. Emmett is disappointed in my lack of action.

I down several scotches trying to 'man up.' It burns my throat and loosens my inhibitions. But not enough, because I'm still ogling the beautiful woman that halts my brain function.

I must be tipsy - I'm laughing at Emmett's jokes - but I'm still watching _her_ from afar. A few more drinks (including a very manly pina colada) and I desperately need to pee. I wait in the line to relieve myself, then I make my way back to the bar for more drinks. Wait, I can't see Bambi eyes. I panic and think someone else has made the move that I cannot. I chastise myself, turning bitterly to make my leave and bam… I run into her. Yes, she of the brown hair and rocking body fame. Only she is even more glorious up close.

My scotch is all over her body-hugging little shirt. I frantically try to wipe the excess liquid from the front and realize with shame that I'm basically fondling her.

And she has incredible nipples.

**March 11, 2010**

**BPOV**

"What the fuck is this?" I ask Rose as she places the shot glass in front of me.

"It's called a Mind Eraser, Bella" she says with a smirk. "You drink it with a straw."

I look at the shot glass filled with liquid. It's dark brown on the bottom and clear on the top.

"Why is it two different colors?" I slur slightly as I ask her the question. "And why do I need to drink it with a straw?"

"I don't know, but the bartender just told me that it was the best shot ever," she says, smiling. "So we're doing it!"

"What the hell?" I say. "What are we drinking this one to?"

"Umm…" she says. "You getting laid tonight!"

"No, really?" I retort, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Okay," she says, lifting her glass. "Here's to the ones that love us and the ones that let us be. And if the ones that love us don't love us anymore, fuck them and here's to me!"

I giggle as I lift my glass to hers, clinking them together and I begin to suck the liquid through the straw…fast. It starts out sweet, but quickly burns. I suck it up and drink because I don't want Rosalie Hale to say shit about me not being able to party with her on Spring Break!

Two more Jack and Diet Cokes later, I'm feeling warm and flushed…and pretty fucking good. Rose nods her head across the bar and says. "What about him?"

I follow her direction and see this hulking, big guy.

"Eww…no!" I say. "He's too big!"

"Bella, sweetie…they can never be too big," she says suggestively.

I ignore her comment and turn my eyes away from the large man and I see him…and my heart stops beating in my chest. He's all bronze hair, pouty, kissable lips and chiseled perfection. I assume he must be lost because Adonis has clearly wondered off the Greek Isles and into this loud, obnoxious bar on South Beach. I stare at him blatantly…mesmerized by his beauty. I take another sip of my highball and briefly look over at Rose.

"What about his friend?" I ask. "_He's perfect_." My voice sounds dreamy and I wonder where the hell that's coming from.

"The pretty boy drinking the wine?" she asks, clearly mocking me. "He's obviously gay, Bella."

"Well, he's talking to the big guy," I say. "Maybe they're a couple."

My heart sinks as I say the words. I'm so disappointed, but I quickly get over it. It's not like I'd ever have a chance with him anyway. Plus, I don't have a penis…so basically I have nothing he wants. Goddamn this Brazilian wax that Rosalie made me get! It is now only serving as a reminder that no one but me will get to see absolutely no hair…down there.

Fuck. My. Life.

"Well," Rosalie's voice interrupts my hazy shade of sadness. "If they're a couple…you can definitely tell who the top is and who the bottom is."

I want to laugh along with her…really I do, but I'm too saddened by the thought that the most perfect man in the world will never ever sleep with me. I swallow back the rest of my drink and take comfort in the fact that if I can't sleep with him…no other woman will get to sleep with him either.

Rose and I spend the next while laughing and talking and drinking. It occurs to me in my intoxicated state that coming to Miami for Spring Break was the best idea that we ever had! I never do anything like this. And does alcohol _always_ make you feel _so_ good?

"How are you feeling there, Tiger?" Rosalie asks and I'm not sure why she's referring to me as a predatory animal.

"I have to pee," I tell her…and it's the truth.

"Once you pee, you break the seal, Bella," she says, matter-of-factly.

"I don't care," I say as I stand up, wobbling a bit to the side. "Consider it broken."

"Just like your hymen!" she shouts and then she cackles loudly.

"Barely," I mumble as I walk away from her, now pissed that I'm thinking of my ex-boyfriend Tyler and his little dick that never got me off.

I make my way through the myriad of horny people by the bar, looking for the bathroom when suddenly, I am covered in something wet and pressed against something hard. I look up and it's him…the bronze god with the green eyes…and his hands are all over my breasts. Rubbing and groping.

And fuck me…my nipples are erect.

* * * * *

A/N

Reviews still get love in their box from Edward.

Cosmogirl7481: So, did you see our sexy new blinkie?

Marvar: Yes, it's freaking hot!

Cosmogirl7481: I know. That's because RoseArcadia is a sexy goddess.

Marvar: Forthwithward loves her because she's all computer literate and shit.

Cosmogirl7481: I know. Unlike me who can't even get my Blackberry to work. Hey, are we through thanking people?

Marvar: Did we thank everyone who tweeted their rec's this week?

Cosmogirl7481: There are too many. This A/N would be longer than our chapter. LOL

Marvar: I spent a lot of time on Twitter this week. It was like having friends. LOL

*Cosmo whispers in Marvar's ear that it's time to end this A/N and spend some 'quality time' together*

Seriously…thank you for all the love this week!

We appreciate it so much.

You can follow us on Twitter.

Cosmogirl7481 and Marvar29.

Also, come and play with us on the _Love in My Box_ thread on Twilighted!


	4. Re: Hands on Experimentation

**A/N**

Marvar: Hey Cosmo, are we on for Saturday? I told you I bought a ginormous bottle of Malibu and I have a box of Thin Mints. I just need you and the deluxe copy of New Moon. What are you bringing?

Cosmogirl7481: A bottle of Kettle One vodka, candles and nipple clamps.

Marvar: Does vodka go with Thin Mints? I know the nipple clamps do.

Cosmogirl7481: Vodka goes with everything.

Marvar: I feel bad I'm not bringing any toys. Do you have more stored in your guest room?

Cosmogirl7481: My spare room is a toy-room!

Marvar: So is mine, but I don't think we're talking about the same kind of toys.

Cosmogirl7481: Do you have a swing?

Marvar: Again, I have the wrong kind.

Cosmogirl7481: I think we could make any kind of swing work for us. *winks*

* * * * *

**Chapter 3 Re: Hands-on Experimentation**

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Asymmetry and Anatomy

Dear Bella,

I've missed interacting with you even though it has only been one day since your last email. I seem to be thinking about you constantly. I actually made a mistake today in class writing Bradyphrenia instead of Bradypnea - what a loser, right? I kicked myself for such an elementary mistake. Do you see what you do to me?

It pleases me to know that you don't mind asymmetry in my features. While we are on the subject I will tell you that my right ear is one millimeter larger than my left (I can provide you with all of my measurements, if necessary). I hope that is still within your comfort zone of irregularity (you did say you thought crooked things are better).

I'm mortified when I think of how I spilled my drink on your lovely shirt – I'm still awaiting the dry cleaning bill, by the way. I would probably have been a .06 on the breathalyzer (still within normal range) considering my weight and the amount of alcohol, so I'm sure my perception was not skewed. My depth perception and spatial memory are quite excellent as proved by recent test results. What this means is . . . you are spectacular…I'm quite certain of this. I could wax poetic about your beauty ad infinitum.

I Googled "lite-brite" and though I can appreciate the appeal it may have to a child, in no way can your entertainment value compare to this piece of plastic. 'Kind of fun' is woefully inadequate turn of phrase. I have never been so enchanted as I was the night I spent with you.

As for the word of the day, I don't think I can continue with further usage of the Urban Dictionary. While browsing, I found that some of the words are rather filthy. . . have you heard of a "dirty Sanchez?" If you haven't (I'll assume you have not), please ignore my previous question - my sense of decorum does not permit me to include this definition. I have written a strongly-worded letter to the Webmaster to alert him or her of such depravity.

I also Googled "Bridget Jones" because I have not seen this movie nor read the book. Is this one of the books you would like to read to me? I would gladly endure that just to spend the time with you. Especially since you like me. . . the way I am. I've never had that kind of acceptance, except from my family.

I don't know much about coffee houses or pseudo-poets, since I have a hypersensitivity to caffeine and can't hang out due to my school and hospital schedule. I do like poetry, however. Maybe we can read some of my favorites under that tree. I hope that doesn't make me a douche-bag (Emmett called me that when I told him about 'Bella Boo'). I must admit I've had some dreams about you, me, and a book under this tree.

So, this situation where I'd like to hear you curse. . . I can't describe it, but I hope to show you in person – soon. Repeatedly. You won't be able to remember any other words except for profanity and my name (I hope that wasn't too forward – but you asked). And yes, I'm preparing but it is all mental, except for all of the sit-ups I've been doing. In case I haven't been clear – all I want is you.

Bella, I have an excellent grasp of female anatomy. . .from textbooks. But feel free to tutor me on the subject. I am excellent at hands-on experiments (This is my attempt at flirting). I did notice that you are particularly fascinated with "wetness." I don't know what to say. . .I think my meaning and yours are not the same. I know the clinical explanation, but the reality is . . . amazing. I don't think I've spurred that reaction in a woman before. But it makes me fucking hot to know that I can do this to you (Pardon my language, but you said you don't mind cursing and this is the most precise word choice).

Bella, I can't wait to have another chance to see you. There are so many things I want to do . . . and say.

In answer to your question, I plan to be a surgeon.

My question to you is: What do you plan to do with your degree?

Curious and captivated,

Edward (Masen)

* * * * *

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Sweet and Dirty

Dear Edward,

I cannot tell you how happy I was to receive your email tonight. I had a terribly long day and this was the perfect way to end it. You should also know that I am writing you while I'm in bed. I know that you disapprove of this, but I assure you that it shouldn't affect my posture (much). I should also tell you that I'm eating crackers. You probably never eat in bed. Oh, god. Please don't take that the wrong way. I'm sure that there are some things that you would eat in bed. (At least, I hope so.) Anyway, I like the idea of writing to you while I'm in bed…the idea that 'talking' to you would be the last thing I do before I go to sleep. Do you think about me before you go to sleep, Edward?

I'm sorry that your thoughts of me caused you to make a mistake in class. I don't know what Bradyphrenia and Bradypnea even are. (You should know that I had to copy and paste those words.) I'm not sure I would call that an elementary mistake. An elementary mistake would be more like not knowing the difference between their, there and they're. That shit pisses me off! By the way, I have come to the conclusion that I cannot give up cursing altogether. You wouldn't believe how hard that is. Giving up cursing, I mean. I am trying to stay away from fuck, though. (As much as possible.) Anyway…so many people really don't know the difference between those words. It's more than a little frustrating.

Truly, Edward, your 'features' were perfect. How can you not see that? I was enamored by the green of your eyes and the sharp, angular lines of your face. I didn't really pay attention to your ears. But, I must tell you…I don't really care if one of them is bigger. I only care about which one you would possibly like me to whisper into. Maybe something sweet…or possibly something a little more dirty than sweet? You tell me, Edward. Would you like me to whisper in your ear? On a separate but completely relatable note: (And also female anatomy lesson # 2) Most women's breasts vary in size and shape. I don't know if you have learned that from a textbook, but I am quite certain that no textbook ever taught you that my right breast is slightly bigger than my left. Or that my left nipple tends to be more sensitive. (It's really obvious when it's cold.)

I cannot tell you what it does to me when you tell me that I'm enchanting and beautiful. Once again, you've caused me to blush. And I can pretty much assure you that my blush extends from my cheeks all the way down to my breasts. I can tell you this because I am wearing a low cut tank top…and, by the way, it's also a little chilly. (I hope you don't mind that visual.) I actually visualize you all the time. I have a very lucid memory of you from our night together…even though I was drunk.

I'm not surprised to hear that you are giving up using the Urban Dictionary. To be quite honest, it didn't really seem like you to begin with. I'm glad that you've come to this decision. I want you to feel free to be yourself. Because I like you…not you trying to be someone other than who you are. Besides, I really wasn't all the crazy about 'Bella Boo' either. (I wouldn't call you a douche-bag for that, though. Are you sure that this Emmett is a good friend?) I could only hear Yogi Bear in my head whenever I read (and re-read) your email. Yogi Bear is not sexy, Edward…you are. I don't know what a 'dirty Sanchez' is…but based on the name alone, I'm not sure that I would want to. It sounds gross. Does it have something to do with your butt?

I didn't really think you would have read Bridget Jones. It was a stretch considering that you found the Bronte sisters merely 'entertaining'. I'm guessing that you are not a fan of chick-lit. It's kind of funny when you think about it. I'm all about chick-lit. It's sort of my life right now. So, to answer your question: I'm not sure what I want to do with my education. I bounce back and forth. Sometimes I think that I would like to be a professor, but other times, I think I might like to try to be writer. I haven't ever written anything that's any good. I did try to write fan-fiction once about _Pride and Prejudice_, but I couldn't bring myself to have Elizabeth Bennet say words like 'cock' or Mr. Darcy to say words like 'pussy.' (Apparently, all people who read fan-fiction only want to read about sex.) It just seemed too wrong on so many levels. Anyway, it only got like two reviews (One was from a thirteen year old girl) and I ended up taking the story down. So, yeah…I don't know if I'll ever be a writer.

I was rather hoping you'd be a little more descriptive about where you would like to hear me curse. I mean, I'm all for hands-on experimentation, but seeing as how we live across the country from each other…I'm not sure if 'hands-on' is really going to work for us right now. You were big, Edward, but not that big. I like the idea that I would be rendered to a state of only remembering your name…I like even more that you are confident enough to think that you could make that happen. (I assure you, you could.) Also, I'm really not sure why you are working on your abs. They were perfect…just like you.

My next question: Is there something that you would have had me do differently…you know, on _that _night?

Enamored and Excited,

Bella

P.S.

Edward, I'm glad you thought what I said was 'fucking' hot. I was hoping that you would.

***************

**EPOV**

"So what's up with you and your Boo?" Emmett asks, barely concealing his derision as he spots me in the gym. "I can't believe you called her that," he says and snorts with laughter. "What a douche-bag."

"She thought it was sweet. At least she appreciated the sentiment behind it." I defend myself while sitting up and wiping the sweat from my face and neck. My new exercise regime certainly was rigorous thanks to Emmett. As a former athlete, his knowledge of weight training is paying dividends for me in increased strength and stamina. And I need to be prepared for my next encounter with Bella. I'm not going to fail to pleasure her this time.

I have been working on my body since Jessica dumped me for being "less than manly" and not good in bed. Well, to be truthful, she called me a pussy and a lousy fuck. I was trying to be tactful while explaining. It's caused me to take a look at myself - to see a skinny lab rat that cared about nothing except school. I never put any effort into that relationship and was not really sad that it ended. I am actually thankful to her for opening my eyes to my shortcomings. Now I was putting my plan to action - and I am excellent at planning. Emmett calls it 'Operation Studward.' How embarrassing.

But it has produced results. (ie. Bella. Sex. Miami.)

He's basically giving me a make-over. Emmett is quite agreeable about the whole process, only making fun of me once when I questioned the need for a haircut that makes me look like I've just participated in a sexual tryst. He claims 'sex hair' makes women drop their panties. That seems rather unsanitary, but I don't say that.

"Let's do the crunches off the incline bench, Edward. Your abs are starting to look good."

"Yes, my rectus abdominis muscles are more defined. I need to work on my transverse abdominis, however." Emmett looks at me blankly.

I lift up my shirt to show him what I'm talking about. I run my hand over the muscles in question as I speak.

"See. Right here is where I need some more work."

Emmett guffaws, "Oh, Eddie. This is working like gangbusters. That girl on the treadmill is losing her shit over you."

I glance over at the girl who does look like she's taken a euphoria-inducing substance. Should I call the authorities?

"What did I do?"

"Well, you were fondling your sweaty abdomen and tracing the 'v' into your shorts."

"So?"

He talks to me like he's telling me a secret - lowering his voice and leaning toward me. "Edward, because I'm so secure in my manhood, I have no qualms in saying you are a fucking hot-looking guy. Chicks are going to want to hit that, hard, my friend. Who knew it would only take a haircut, contacts, and a few sit-ups?"

I scoff at his ridiculous comments. He can't be serious. No girls ever like me. I am always too young, too geeky, too reserved. That's why I was with Jessica - she was the only girl to ever pay attention to me.

"Be serious, Emmett."

"Dude, what's the one thing I know better than engineering? Women. She wants to take a bite out of your 'v' and lick the happy trail." I stare at him in disbelief. "Listen, pull off your shirt slowly and pour some of your water over your head. Let it run down your chest, and then wipe it with your shirt. Look at her while you do it. Give her a dose of those green eyes."

"I can't do that, Emmett," I answer, clearly embarrassed.

"Edward, it's an experiment. I formulated a hypothesis. I need to test it," he reassures me, clearly knowing how to manipulate me using my weakness for scientific studies.

I can't help but do exactly as he says, even licking my lips for good measure (Bella seemed to enjoy when I did that). I take off my shirt. . . God, this is mortifying. . . she's staring in shock, awe? . . there goes the water . . .she seems to have trouble breathing . . . I stroke the excess water off my body. . . and she freezes and falls off the treadmill. I am wondering if I should examine her for injuries as Emmett fist bumps me.

"Welcome to the club."

It only took 24 years for me to become attractive to the opposite sex.

***************

**BPOV**

I read his email one more time after I hit the send button. I sigh dreamily and pray that I didn't say anything too humiliating. I don't know what it is about him that makes me lose all control of my filter. And we're not even talking. I am telling him these things in an email. I have to think about what I'm saying. I've never been so forward with a man in my whole life. My mind drifts off as I think of some of the wonderful, romantic and sweet things he's said. My train of thought is interrupted as the door to my bedroom is pushed open.

"Christ, you're up late!" Rosalie exclaims as she walks into my bedroom…without knocking…again.

"Don't you ever knock?" I ask, trying to be irritated, but I can't because I've just read and responded to Edward's email. "What if I was masturbating?"

"Well, then," she says, smiling wickedly. "I'd ask if I could watch. You know I think that's hot."

I roll my eyes, but can't help laughing. Rose is nothing, if not completely honest and horny. I close my laptop and her eyebrow arches as she gives me a questioning look.

"What?" I ask, hoping she doesn't press me for information.

"Were you looking at porn, Bella?" she asks, laughing. "Because if you were…I'll happily take my tired ass to bed and let you get back to it."

"No," I say, rolling my eyes. "I was not looking at porn."

I am secretly mortified that she seems to know that I look at porn. I mean, who doesn't look at porn, though? It's natural and healthy. Besides, I'm visually stimulated.

"Well, then," she says. "What's with all the secrecy? You wouldn't close your laptop if you were writing a paper."

I look at her, trying to assess the situation. I could try to lie, but she would know I was lying immediately. It would be nice to talk to her about this thing I have with Edward. I'm not sure what it is, but it is…_something_.

"Do you remember the last night we were in Miami on Spring Break?" I ask.

"Vaguely." She retorts dryly. "I was pretty, fucking drunk. I do remember you disappearing for an extended period of time and leaving me in the bar to fend off jack-asses."

I shift uncomfortably, wondering what she's going to think when I tell her about this. Rose drops down on my bed and turns to face me, propping her head up on her hand.

"So, umm…do you remember that guy?" I start. "You know…the umm…the one you thought was _gay_?" I cringe as I say the last word.

"The pretty boy?" she asks. "Yeah…why?"

"Well...so, yeah…turns out he's not…gay."

I feel my face flush as Rose's eyes grow wide.

"_You hooked up with Clay Aiken_?" she asks, shocked and then pushes me hard with the palm of her hand for punctuation.

"Shut the fuck up, Rose!" I fume. "And he's _not_ Clay Aiken!"

"Whatever," she says, brushing me off. "He has red hair and he was totally gay, Bella! You hooked up with him? Seriously?"

"Yeah," I tell her. "But that's not what I want to talk to you about."

"What do you want to talk about if it's not that?"

"Well, umm…we've sort of been…well, emailing each other."

"Like emailing…or like tweeting or texting?"

"No…emailing," I explain to her. "It's like we're writing letters."

She looks at me, obviously perplexed by what I've told her. I know she won't understand because she has never had any problem with the opposite sex. In fact, I've never known Rose to be without male attention in the almost five years that I've known her. She is my best friend in the world and though we have much in common, we are vastly different in certain areas. This area just happens to be one of them.

"Why would you email when you could just call each other?"

"I don't know how to explain it," I tell her honestly. "It feels like we're more open with each other in the emails. Plus, I think he's pretty shy and reserved and this might be easier for him and I really do like the emails."

"Do you like him, Bella?"

I look at her and I don't care if she thinks I'm crazy.

"I really do," I say. "I like him a lot."

"Well, Bella…I think you should do what feels good." She winks and smiles at me. "_Did it feel good_?"

I blush and then grin at her.

"It felt _so_ good."

"Well, good for you," she says, giving me a fist-bump before she gets out of my bed.

She walks across the room and I stop her before she leaves.

"I think it's funny that we were both there on Spring Break with our best friends. Did you happen to meet his friend Emmett that night? He was the big guy that you originally pointed out to me."

She stops dead in her tracks before turning around to look at me.

"That guy, Emmett, is his best friend?" she asks, shock crossing her perfect features. "He's a fucking asshole!"

***************

**A/N**

Reviews get a copy of Edward's strongly worded letter to the Webmaster "in their box."

Marvar: So, how did that SR thing work out?

Cosmogirl7481: Well, he didn't suck my elbow or do anything with me slowly by the fire…but he was really busy giving Bella three orgasms on her first time. We also didn't have our foursome with Caren and Kassiah.

Marvar: No wonder I'm all tense.

Cosmogirl7481: Caren had jury-duty. Maybe we can do it this week?

Marvar: Spring Break is in one week. I'll have plenty of time then.

Cosmogirl7481: Some of that time has to be set aside for just the two of us, you know.

Marvar: Yes, we need some alone time.

Cosmogirl7481: Yeah…because I never spend any time with you. *giggles*

Marvar: Yes, we barely talk at all. *snorts*

Cosmogirl7481: Who said we would be talking?

Marvar: The dirty talk gets me in the mood.

Cosmogirl7481: So, what you're saying is…you're always in the mood?

Marvar: When I'm talking to you. *flirts*

Cosmogirl7481: I'm finished with flirting. *fucks*

Marvar: Damn, baby!

Cosmogirl7481: I like it when you call me baby!

Marvar: I like it when you say fuck.

Seriously…thank you so much for the overwhelming love that you have given us for this story! We swear…we would be doing this anyway, but it is wonderful to know that there are others out there that appreciate our vocabulary-loving and seriously, dirty minds!

Come play with us on the Twilighted thread! We post teasers there and on The Fictionators' "Teaser Monday."

You can also follow us on Twitter.

cosmogirl7481 & marvar29


	5. Re: Whispering and Wet Shirts

**A/N**

**Welcome to all of our new readers. Thank you, Melissa228 for rec-ing us this week in Confessions of a Nanny.**

**Marvar: I don't know if I told you I can't text you much this weekend because I'm going to a *whispers* monster truck show. Don't judge – I have three boys.**

**Cosmogirl7481: Yeah…in Vegas. I think I would ditch the family and find a casino…or a boutique. Vegas has great shopping!**

**We don't own them. We only own each other!**

**Chapter 4 Re: Whispering and Wet Shirts**

From: Edward Masen

To: Isabella Swan

Re: Further experimentation

Dearest Bella,

As much as it pains me to hear that you are writing from bed, I am more than thrilled to receive a response from you. I have told you before that your emails are the highlight of my day. I can almost picture you talking to me, the way you whisper in my ear. . .yes, I'd love to hear that sound again – either ear is fine as I have perfect hearing in both per my physical exam on 2/26.

I am concerned about your posture, Bella. Have you seen the effects of curvature of the spine? It's not pretty. I can send you pictures. I am wondering if you have a desk or table since you seem to do everything in bed. Please tell me that you at least have adequate back support for these endeavors. Could you possibly invest in an ergonomic chair? I can send you a link for the place I bought mine.

I just worry about you, Bella.

Yes, I do know about the size variance in body parts – it is rather common. But reading about it in textbooks and doing a physical examination are two different things. (I wasn't speaking about doing an exam on you, Bella. That would be a conflict of interest and not to mention extremely distracting.) I cannot speak to the sensitivity issue as I have not had enough experience with the female areolae and nipples - except for yours of course, which are extraordinary and not the norm. If we're being honest, I believe all of your features are exceptional.

If I may be so bold, I think about you everyday and every night - most thoughts are chaste - I can't give you a precise ratio of chaste to sexual, especially when you write about your low-cut tank tops and blushing breasts. You have made quite an impression on me.

The fact that I made a mistake transcribing some terms is embarrassing and I hope you do not think less of me. The mistake you mentioned is very annoying, but what kind of people misuse those words? Certainly not literature majors, right? I would be disillusioned if that were so. My sister attends your school and I assure you her writing skills are above reproach, though she is not a lit major.

It's hard for me to believe that you find me attractive, Bella. I want to believe it. For so long I have been the ugly duckling - ironic, huh, beautiful Swan? I was always younger that the other kids in school, having skipped two grades. I was awkward and gangly. I never cared about my appearance until recently. And it's not because of Jessica. I just realized I was not very happy with my personal life. Emmett is helping me with this endeavor. He really is a good friend.

Today he conducted an experiment at the gym. After soccer practice we worked out - part of the plan – you wouldn't believe the name he gave it! He hypothesized that a female would have a certain reaction to me. He was correct in his assumption! It worked exactly how he said it would - I love science. I have to note that it was too small a sampling for real data, but successful nevertheless. You possibly would have enjoyed observing our test since I was quite wet with perspiration and the water I poured on myself (I know you have a penchant for wetness).

I want to respond to your flirting, Bella, but I'm not sure how to talk like that without sounding rude or misogynistic. I would never objectify you. You are too special and precious and deserving of my respect. You write so effortlessly and I'm afraid of making a mistake (This is not common for me).

Maybe you can teach me?

I am aware that I have much to learn in this area.

I'm pleased to hear that you will not miss the Urban Dictionary. I did write the letter to the Webmaster, but received only a weak apology and a $5.00 online coupon for Netflix. Maybe I can rent that Bridget Jones movie?

I googled 'chick lit' and I would have to say, no, it's not something that I would read. Well, maybe if you read it to me. I bet you make anything sound good, even dirty words. . . especially dirty words.

To answer your question, you were perfect. I was the one who failed.

My next question: What is your family like?

Hanging on your every word,

Edward

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From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Please Don't Change

Dear Edward,

So, first of all, I would like to say that I am pleased that both of your ears are in perfect condition. Maybe, I'll just whisper in both. Would you mind that? Louis Nizer once said, "People will believe anything you whisper to them." Maybe if I whisper to you that you are dreamy and wonderful…you would believe me.

Please don't worry about my posture, Edward. I assure you, it's fine. I don't think that I'm at risk for scoliosis just yet. I just like doing things on the bed, but it could be fun to do stuff on a desk or a table, too. Besides, I do a lot of yoga. It helps with posture and has made me extremely…flexible. The camel pose is good for your back and there are various other positions that would be excellent for…other activities. Maybe I could show you sometime. Is that something you would like to see?

I agree about the hands-on experience. Your hands were perfect on my breasts, Edward, though I would never want to create a conflict of interest by your performing an exam on me. But, don't you think it would be a little fun to play doctor? You know…before you actually become one, that is. Thank you for complimenting my blushing breasts. I assure you…my nipples have never been more flattered. My areolae are shy and refusing to comment. (However, they write about you in their journal every night).

And if I am being honest, you have a particular body part that was spectacularly, outstanding. Or spectacular when it stood out…prominently…generously. I'm very good with adjectives. (Lit major.) I could describe _that_ particular part of you endlessly. Seriously, I could go on at great length. Just like your…well, you know.

It is difficult for me to imagine you as an 'ugly duckling.' You are, hands down, the most attractive man I've ever met. I thought everything about you was flawless. It concerns me that you seem to think otherwise. Have you ever looked in a mirror? For real…you're hot…and sweet …and smart…and sexy. I mean, I can't even look at my laptop without needing to change my panties lately. And I have to tell you, there's nothing that sexy about my MacBook. It's all you, Edward. Please don't change the things that make you truly special.

On that note, I would like to talk to you about this 'experiment' that you conducted with your friend, Emmett. You were kind of vague and I'm wondering if that wasn't intentional. From what I understand, you did something that involved you with a sweaty body pouring water on yourself to gauge how a female would respond to you? Is this for real…or are you fucking with me? I can tell you how she would respond. She probably lost her shit and had to change her panties, too! I would have loved to see you doing that…if you were doing it for me. (But you weren't.)

I'm beginning to really wonder about your friend Emmett. My roommate, Rosalie, met him in Miami that night…after we left the bar. She said he was an asshole. (Her words, not mine.) She wouldn't give me any information other than that about their interaction. Has he talked to you about her at all? I am really wondering what happened with them. Do you think that they did…_what we did_?

As much as I would love for you to respond to my attempts at flirting, I would never want you to do anything that made you uncomfortable. That being said, I think it would be impossible for you to ever be considered misogynistic or debasing in any way. Let me just ask you a couple questions. You like it when I say things like that to you…don't you? And if you like it…don't you think that I might like it as well?

I wouldn't mind teaching you, Edward. I think I could be a good and thorough teacher and you would be an excellent student. (Ooh…something else we could play when we're not playing doctor!) We can take this one step at a time, though. I'm going to ask you a question and it's important that you answer me…for your education, of course. If you had me alone in your bedroom right now, what would you want to do with me?

To answer your question about my family: I grew up in Phoenix with my parents, Charlie and Renee Swan. My dad is the chief of police and my mom is a hippie. Really, she's a patchouli-loving, folk-singing, pottery-making hippie. They are complete and total opposites and have been happily married for twenty-five years. Also, my dad is a republican and my mom is a die-hard democrat. During the last presidential election, my mom would intentionally send my dad into a complete and total tizzy by walking around the house chanting, "Yes, we can!"

Speaking of family, you sister goes to Berkeley? I wonder if I know her. What is her name?

My next question: What kind of music do you have on your iPod?

Constantly dreaming of you,

Bella

P.S.

I am on my way to the park…in a white tank top…with no bra. I fully intend to pour a bottle of water on myself for any man to see…just to gauge his reaction. For scientific learning purposes, of course. (I might even bounce up and down to add a different dimension to the experiment.)

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**EPOV**

March 12, 2010

"I beg your pardon! I'm so sorry. . . I – I – please. . . " I am officially without verbiage. My hands are everywhere – my eyes are plastered to her amazing breasts whose nipples are pointing at me like they're divining rods and I'm ground water. Gahhhh. I reach for my trusty monogrammed handkerchief in order to wipe the excess scotch; my hands are not made of absorbent material.

She says something, but her body mesmerizes me – she is a siren and I'm Odysseus. I pull myself from my Greek epic fantasy and find words. "I'm dreadfully sorry. Please allow me to make amends for my complete lack of coordination and my . . ." I gesticulate wildly with my hands, mimicking my earlier fondling because I can't say it aloud. "Please forgive me, Miss . . ." Now I stare at her face, which I have not spent nearly enough time observing. She is more breathtaking up close. I have no chance with such a beauty. Especially one that I just groped inappropriately.

"Bella," she says in a musical voice.

"Bellisima," I whisper. "E 'l pensier mio, ch'è sol di lei, sí ch'altra non v'à parte." I murmur lines from a sonnet that reminds me of this moment.

"Wha- what does that mean? It sounded beautiful," she says with a strange gleam in her eye.

I don't answer as I realize that everyone in this place can see through my Bella's blouse and I am seized by jealousy. "May I walk you to the restroom so that you may attend to your blouse?" I nod at her wet chest. She is still staring; I wonder if she thinks I'm a freak and wants to call the authorities on me. "I promise to be a complete gentleman," I assure her in my most comforting tone_. Please don't run screaming from me._

She scowls briefly and nods her agreement. I hesitantly place my hand on the small of her back to lead her towards the ladies' room. I feel her shiver at my touch. What does this mean?

"You didn't tell me your name," Bella looks at me while we make our way through the crowded bar and my heart skips.

"Edward," I say and wait for her to comment on my old-fashioned name.

She smiles widely and says, "It's perfect." I sigh as I realize she's the perfect one.

We reach the restroom and surprisingly there's not a huge line. There's only one other person. Bella turns to me and I brace myself for the imminent brush off.

"Edward, can you help me with my shirt? I can use an extra hand." My mouth drops open and she smirks. She grabs my hand and pulls me in – not just into the ladies' room – into her world, her everything. . .

I wonder if she can hear my heart beating frantically. She faces me and walks slowly toward me, stopping when her body just touches mine. I gazed down at her heart-shaped face, her eyes grazing over my lips, which I lick nervously. She gasps then runs her fingers across my chest. I try not to hyperventilate.

"So, you never said what that phrase meant, Edward. It made me curious." Bella is running her fingers through my hair and pressed against me now. I am fully aroused - much to my chagrin. What will Bella think of me? "Ooh, I just got an answer to one of my questions." She grinds her pelvis against my hardness and my eyes roll back from the sensation. "Edward?" she looks at me expectantly. I try to compose myself.

"It was Italian – Petrarca, 'Every thought of mine, only of her, and shared with no one else.' " She exhales as she snakes her arms around my neck. I am a bundle of awkward and inexperience. Her warm breath fans across my face. I try to commit everything to memory because this may never happen again and I want every detail, every moment. I'm not even disgusted that this is taking place in such an unsanitary environment.

"I want to try something." She leans impossibly closer. "Just stay still." My Bella slowly presses her lips to mine and I cannot breathe. . .or think.

Her mouth is moving against mine and I realize I haven't moved. Her lips part in a smile and she whispers, "You can kiss me back, Edward." This is not a pity kiss, nor a friendly peck. I am called to action. I move slowly and awkwardly, tilting my head, but it's wrong. We bump noses and I pull back slightly only to have Bella grip my hair firmly and pull me closer. I feel her soft, moist tongue run across my bottom lip and I moan in surprise. She gently but insistently presses my mouth open and her tongue is exploring me. Her taste is like nothing I've ever experienced. I tentatively touch mine to hers and her vigor is renewed. I must be doing this right. I gain some confidence and my fingers graze the skin between her shirt and jeans as we deepen the kiss. My hands ghost up her sides and I wrap one arm around her and grasp her by the hair and tip her head back to pepper her neck with soft, wet kisses. Our bodies are moving as one. It's never been like this. . . I've never felt this way.

Someone clears her throat, but we stay entwined.

"Hey, get a room," the cockblocker growls.

"Jealous," Bella mumbles between kisses. I pull back and she groans. We can't stay in here much longer.

"Um, would you like me to escort you to your hotel, Bella? It would be my pleasure."

She beams and says, "I really hope it will be both of ours. But let's go to your room."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

**BPOV**

March 12, 2010

He's talking to me, and dammit…his voice is as beautiful as he is! I try to listen to what he's saying, but all I can focus on is the feeling of his hands on my breasts and my fucking traitor nipples. They are so erect at this point, I'm pretty sure they could cut glass.

Somewhere in my mind, I think that I should be mortified by all of this…but I'm not. I am warm and fuzzy and completely enjoying the feel of his hands on my body. I make the mistake of looking up at him, and suddenly, his hands are gone from me. He retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket and I briefly think that maybe he _is_ gay. It would be _just_ fucking like me and my stupid nipples to be attracted to a gay man…with a handkerchief.

_Who carries a handkerchief?_

He begins to wipe the liquid from my chest and I miss the feeling of his skin against my skin. He has soft hands…softer than most men. (Yeah…pretty sure he's gay.) But he's looking at me…and the expression on his face is sending me a completely different message. He looks…enamored…interested? I begin to question my original assumption and I am overwhelmingly aroused. I've never felt a connection like this to anyone. In a moment of unadulterated boldness, I say, "I think I liked it better when your hands were on me."

Fuck.

Did I just say that?

Out loud?

He doesn't seem to notice and I watch, completely entranced as he begins to mimic the previous groping. I am confused as to what he's doing, so I look up into his big green eyes and I forget the frantic motion of his hands in front of me.

"Please forgive me, Miss…"

He's staring at me and I can't help but think that he is feeling the same attraction that I am feeling. My breath catches and I tell him my name.

"Bella."

"Bellisima," he whispers and then says something to me in Italian and it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard. I don't know what he's said. The only Italian that I know is Chicken Parmigiana and Fettucini Alfredo. It doesn't matter, though.

He just spoke to me in Italian. He is into me. That means he's into me…right?

"Wha- what does that mean? It sounded beautiful," I say, looking at him…really looking at him for the first time tonight. God, I want him. I don't know what's gotten into me.

His demeanor seems to change and suddenly he looks around us and he looks…concerned.

"May I walk you to the restroom so that you may attend to your blouse?" he asks, his eyes shifting down to my breasts.

I can't take my eyes from this beautiful man and the sound of his voice…gah! He's perfect and beautiful and speaks freaking Italian!

"I promise to be a complete gentleman," he says in a soothing tone.

But I don't want him to be a gentleman! I want him to push me up against the wall and lick the rest of his scotch from my chest!

Gentlemen don't do that.

Gentlemen have fucking handkerchiefs.

I'm screwed.

I am so not getting screwed.

I nod my head in acceptance of his offer, not wanting him to walk away. As we head toward the bathroom, I feel him place his hand on the small of my back and that one small touch might be even hotter than when he touched my breasts. I shivered in response.

I remind him that he didn't tell me his name and he tells me that it's Edward. I don't know why, but even his name is sexy. I look up at him smiling and he probably thinks I'm an idiot.

"It's perfect," I tell him.

And it is.

Just like him.

All I can think is that he will walk away once I go inside. As the girl exits, I know what I have to do and I act impulsively. I turn around to face him and I ask, "Edward, can you help me with my shirt? I can use an extra hand."

I watch as his jaw drops and I can't tell if it's a good or a bad thing. I see him swallow and I think he must be nervous. I don't know why, but I take that as a good sign. He wouldn't be nervous if there was no chance for sex. Right?

I smile at him as walk inside, grabbing his hand and pulling him in after me. I've never been thankful for whiskey, but I am completely indebted to the makers of the liquid courage that I still have running through my veins.

I walk over to him and I watch, enthralled as he licks his full, kissable lips. The sight of his tongue lapping the very skin that I want to kiss causes me to gasp. I wonder if he hears me, but it doesn't matter because I lift my hand and stroke my fingers across his chest.

I am a new, bold woman. I feel a surge of confidence like I've never felt before.

Besides, this is spring break and I will probably never see him again anyway.

"So, you never said what that phrase meant, Edward. It made me curious."

I move my fingers from his chest and into his soft hair as I press myself against him…and oh, my! He's aroused. I feel it! Yeah…he's definitely not gay.

"Ooh, I just got an answer to one of my questions."

I grind against him and he tilts his head back slightly and his eyes roll back. I do a happy dance inside because I am turning on this perfect man. He wants me. I'm a freaking sex-god!

"Edward?" I ask, stopping my internal celebration. I realize he never answered my question.

"It was Italian – Petrarca, 'Every thought of mine, only of her, and shared with no one else.'"

The words are beautiful…they catch me off guard. I might have swooned. He may very well be the perfect man. I wrap my arms around his neck and he seems nervous. I'm close…so close. I can feel his heart pounding. Just like mine. I want him to kiss me, but I realize that he probably won't make the first move.

So, I woman-up.

"I want to try something." I say, leaning closer to him. I can smell his breath, all scotch and peppermint. "Just stay still," I whisper.

Slowly, I press my lips against his…tentatively. He's completely still and I just know it's because he's nervous. He hasn't pulled away. I smile against his lips, proud of myself for being such a vixen.

"You can kiss me back, Edward."

And then it happens. He tilts his head and gives in to the kiss. It's awkward and perfect and I never want to stop. I feel him try to pull back, but I'm not ready for this to stop, so I press his face closer, opening my mouth and letting my tongue taste his lip for the first time.

And. He. Moaned.

It was even sexier than the Italian.

My kisses grow more forceful as I open his mouth with my tongue. I'm not sure why, but I feel like I'm doing this right…like I'm a good kisser. Nothing could prepare me though, for the moment his tongue touched mine.

It was divine.

He grew more assertive and I could feel him touching me, grasping my shirt, sliding his warm hand underneath to feel the skin there. His other hand reached for my hair and he pulled my head back as he kissed along my neck.

_Yes…please, sex god…do that some more, won't you?_

Suddenly, some bitch clears her throat and tells us to get a room.

"Jealous," I murmur into his mouth as he continues to kiss me. He pulls back and I groan, wanting to kick that girl's ass. Well…I wouldn't, but I could get Rose to do it.

"Um, would you like me to escort you to your hotel, Bella? It would be my pleasure."

I smile at him like he's just offered to take me to Disney World, but I'm pretty sure I'll like this ride more.

"I really hope it will be both of ours. But let's go to your room."

**End Notes:**

**Reviews, as always, get some love from Edward in their box.**

**Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing and loving this story! We appreciate it so much!**

**Huge thanks to Caren for all of her support!**

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**Cosmogirl7481 and marvar29**

**Or come and play with us on the Twilighted thread. We post teasers there and on The Fictionators "Teaser Monday".**

**See you all next week!**


	6. Re: Cock and Confrontation

**A/N**

Marvar: I'm on Spring Break right now, but unfortunately I didn't meet any hot medical students.

Cosmogirl7481: I was in Miami this week. Same damn story. It sucks.

Marvar: Maybe we should have tried to bump into hot guys carrying drinks.

Cosmogirl7481: I tried. They were all gay. Except one. I called him Dan…his name was Brad. So…lose, lose on that front.

Marvar: *sigh* I guess we live vicariously through Bella. That bitch has all the fun.

Cosmogirl7481: Well, I wouldn't say all the fun. I did get hit on by a middle-aged man in a Tommy Bahama shirt. *snorts*

**Chapter 5**

**Re: Cock and Confrontation**

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Hasty decisions

Bella,

I must entreat you to not rush out and conduct this so called experiment. How on earth do you call that scientific? What is your hypothesis?

Are you trying to drive me insane? I'm pinching the bridge of my nose right now, Bella, trying to rid myself of the thoughts in my head. I haven't needed a coping mechanism since I was a preteen in high school.

You do realize that not all men are like me, right? I respect you and would never ogle your perfect, round, wet breasts even in a see through tank top. I would give you my shirt to cover up. Don't you remember last time you had a wet shirt? I do. Fondly. It sort of brought me to you.

So, Bella, can you please not do that?

Especially the jumping part.

Concerned,

Edward

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Bemused and Bewildered

Dear Edward,

I'm sorry.

Did you think there was something wrong with me going to the park to perform that experiment?

I can't imagine what it would be...

Tell me, why would you object?

Especially to the jumping part?

Is that maybe something that you would only want me to do for you?

Waiting for your reply,

(Impatient) Bella

From: Edward Masen

To: Isabella Swan

Re: Reassurance

Dear Bella,

You are kidding, right? (That's not a rhetorical question).

There are so many things wrong, I can't articulate them all. I'm not even counting the total disregard of the scientific method.

Let's analyze the facts in this situation - wet top, no bra, guys, and you bouncing - I just may be jealous. And it seems that maybe. . . you were, too? This analysis is difficult as I have little experience in this area and you cannot Google it (I tried). I have never once been jealous, even when Jessica threw herself at other men. I was merely uncomfortable. For you, I seethe. I'm now aware that I did not truly care for her.

But I do care for you.

I panicked when I read your email. The thought of anyone else looking at you turned me into a Cro-Magnon with a crude weapon. I realize that possessiveness is not an attractive quality. I will try to curb these tendencies. I don't want to be like other men, I want to be special to you like you are to me.

I just want you to know that before you, only one girl has ever shown interest in me (and we shan't speak of her again). This is the only reason why I poured the water on my torso. It was merely to gauge her reaction. I must admit I was flattered when the girl in the gym fell off the treadmill. I'm sorry if my foray into vanity made you jealous (and sarcastic).

Bella, bellisima mia, there is no competition.

With utmost respect and affection,

Edward

P.S. I concede that my experiment was not actually scientific.

From: Isabella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Reassured

Dear Edward,

I am sorry.

I never should have tried to make you jealous. So, please don't feel bad for having a response that I was purposely trying to evoke.

It's just that I was jealous, too. Really jealous, actually. More than I care to admit. I want you to know that I blame your friend, Emmett, for this entirely. There is no way that you would have done this on your own. I felt a little possessive myself. Stupid, sexy gym-girl. I hope she didn't puncture her fake boob when she fell. Not really, anyway.

I must say, though...the thought of you going all caveman is...well...it's really, quite sexy. Primal. Hot. Is it bad that I feel that way and that I think of you…you know…having a big stick?

You could never be like other men. I figured that out on our first night together. You are exceptional and wonderful and unlike any other man I've ever known. (All two of them.)

There is no need for vanity, Edward. (By the way...I love saying your name.) I assure you...your appeal is transcendent. Abs or no abs. As much as I enjoyed your tempting physical qualities…I enjoy _you _even more. Even that night, but especially now.

The Italian, Edward…there is definitely no need for water bottles when you are able to speak the language of love. I assure you that I would take your mind and your words over your body any day. But just so we're clear, Edward…I want them all…and I don't share. (It's an only child thing.)

I am headed to the library. I assure you, my attire is completely modest but I can't say that I'm not wet. Though, to be honest, it's not the kind of wet you can see. Did I mention that I really loved the Italian? Because I did. A lot.

Also, you should know…you didn't make me sarcastic. I was sarcastic long before you.

Missing you,

Bella

P.S.

I appreciate your respect...but your passion leaves me breathless.

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Provocative words

Dear Bella,

No apologies are necessary.

I realize I started this whole thing with the gym experiment. I feel badly for making you wish bodily harm on that poor young lady on the treadmill. Do you know what actually happens when an implant bursts? It's not pleasant. (I can email you some information for further study.) Actually, I have no idea if she was sexy or had implants because I don't notice other women. Only you, Bella. I don't share, either.

Thank you for saying that I am physically attractive. It holds significance coming from you – and not my mom and my sister. I am slowly recognizing that my features are aesthetically pleasing. (With your help and Emmett's.) Don't judge him too harshly; he has helped me a great deal. I never would have been in Miami without his encouragement. No, I don't know what happened with Rosalie – he hasn't mentioned it.

Thank you for saying that you like my name. Most people try to give me ridiculous nicknames like "Eddie." (I despise that.) So you like it when I speak Italian? I'll put that in my Bella file. I should tell you that I also speak Latin and French. Latin is very practical for a medical student and French is useful when you spend summers in France. Do you speak any other languages?

I'm glad you are doing yoga, it has many health benefits besides the flexibility. (This sounds promising.) My sister, Alice, also is a yoga enthusiast.

Your parents sound very interesting. They must have superb genes to have produced such excellent progeny.

About my family - my father is a surgeon and my mother is an architect. They live in Chicago, which is where we were raised. My younger sister is a student at Berkeley.

You are trying to drive me insane, aren't you? You teasing me about the state of your arousal and you wanting to play doctor with me is quite provocative, Bella. I just may have a physical reaction of my own. (You definitely could go on at _great length_ about this.) Not to mention all of the nipple talk.

Other than medical lectures and classical music, I don't have much on my iPod. Maybe you can enlighten me? I am open to anything you suggest. (That is something I rarely say.)

My question to you: What did your areolae write in their journal about me?

With passion,

Edward

From: Isabella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Arousal and Insanity

Dear Edward,

It bodes well for me that you don't need an apology. I don't really do apologies well. It's not that I feel like I never do anything wrong, it's just that I have a hard time admitting when I do. I have a compulsive need to be right. I'm not really sure where this comes from. With that being said, I was clearly in the wrong for doing what I did. I guess that I just wanted to teach you a lesson. But, really, when you think about it…there are so many other things I would rather teach you. (I understand that you are a quick study.)

Tell me something you would like to learn.

Don't feel bad for the gym-girl, Edward. I'm sure she was fine. She probably bounced right back up after her fall. Plastic is pretty durable. And no…I don't know what happens when you puncture an implant. While my breasts might not be perfect, they are real. Also, I heard that when you get implants, you lose sensitivity in your nipples. I like the way my nipples react. Especially to you.

I will try not to judge your friend, Emmett too harshly. I can be forgiving, given the fact that it was his idea to bring you to Miami. But, I implore you…please use better judgment the next time he tells you to something that is so clearly asinine. (I still have my tank top and bottles of water are really easy to come by.)

I'm surprised that he won't tell you what happened between him and Rose. The suspense is killing me. She is being tight-lipped, but I think I'll try to ask her about it again. Maybe I should get her drunk. It does make you wonder though, doesn't it? What if they were doing what we were doing at the same time that we were doing it? Christ, that was convoluted. I wonder if they fucked? Not that I think we fucked. I mean…we did…you know…become intimate. I just don't think it was fucking. I think it was fucking hot. (I hope my language doesn't offend you.)

You already know how I feel about the Italian, but to learn that you also speak French…are you trying to kill me here? It's as if I think you can't possibly be any more appealing…and suddenly, you prove me wrong again. Do you have super-powers? Are you James Bond…or Indiana Jones? Can you scale a wall and sneak into my bedroom and watch me sleep at night? (Please don't do that.) You would be invited into my bedroom and could walk through the door.

Do you spend summers in France? I have never travelled outside the country…except to Canada and Canada is pretty much like America, but much cleaner and everyone has health-care. I have met a French-Canadian. He was my first crush in college and he was kind of dashing and quiet…but I'm pretty sure that he didn't quite know what to do with me. He did like the Bronte Sisters, but you are the only person to ever ask me to read Wuthering Heights to you under a tree. So, you win. (You would never have any competition.)

I would love to visit France. We could hold hands at Luxembourg Gardens or admire the beautiful works of art at the Louvre. It would be divine to see the Eiffel Tower with you at night. I don't speak French, but I think I might be good at French kissing…while we overlooked the Seine. Umm..yeah. So, anyway…I've never been to France.

I'm not trying to drive you insane, Edward. I will admit to trying to generate a response. No one has ever called me provocative. Ever. Only you. I can't tell you what that does to me. Well…I could, but it might generate another response. Could you tell me about your response? I'll make you a deal. If you describe the kind of response I 'provoke'…you know…provocatively, I'll tell you what my areolae write about you in their journal.

Adoringly,

Bella

P.S.

You never answered my question from my email. If you had me alone in your bedroom right now, what would you want to do with me?

On top being provocative…I'm also persistent.

**BPOV**

I take a quick look around me and see that all the usual players are here in my yoga class. It's a small group of about fifteen. I roll out my mat and make sure that I have a bottle of water close to me. The instructor turns on the sound system and the tranquil sounds and clink-clinking of whatever New Age music she has chosen fills the room.

The lighting is dimmed and I have assumed the seated pose. My hands are palms-up and resting comfortably on my lap. I am breathing deeply.

Calm.

Relaxed.

Meditative.

Except I'm not.

I can only think of Edward. I think of him and a warmth fills my belly. I take a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. Trying to find my center…but I can't. His perfect face is behind my eyelids. His adorable and wonderful words fill my mind. I smile at just the thought of him being jealous over the idea that I would go to the park and do…_that_.

I giggle quietly to myself, but apparently, it wasn't quiet enough because I feel the gentle hand of the instructor on my shoulder, urging me to lie back. Telling me to relax and clear my mind.

_You wouldn't want me to clear my mind if you could see the man I'm thinking about. Because, really…he's so fucking dreamy…_

_Snap out of it Bella!_

_You don't say the F-word in yoga! _

_I didn't say it…I thought it!_

_Shut up, Bella!_

_Focus!_

The instructor tells us to assume the Goddess pose. I am already on my back and I press the soles of my feet together, pushing them up toward my body, effectively spreading my thighs. Wide. The instructor informs us that this pose helps us to open our groin. My mind begins to drift again.

Lying on my back…legs spread wide…open groin…groin…Edward…what Edward did to me when I was in this position…what Edward _could_ do to me….

_Fuck._

_I'm aroused._

_I'm aroused at yoga._

_And wet._

_I can't be aroused and wet at yoga!_

_Stop it, Bella. Just stop!_

_What are you? A twelve-year-old boy?_

_Fuck!_

_Stop saying fuck!_

I focus again. My mind is stronger and more agile than my body. My mind can make my body submit. I am a goddess.

_A sex goddess…_

_With a submissive body…_

Oh, no…wait! They're changing poses.

We're standing up now. I take a deep breath, holding it and then releasing it through my mouth. Once again, I try to focus…to center myself. The instructor leads us into the Downward Facing Dog pose. I place my palms on the mat and feel the rush of blood to my head. This, of course, leads me to think of the rush of blood to…Edward's head.

_Mmmm…_

_Edward aroused…_

_Stunning…_

_Smooth…_

_Hard…_

_Perfect…_

I can't be certain. I've only ever seen one other, but Tyler's definitely didn't look like Edward's. It was so pretty. Can I call his _thing_ pretty? I mean, it was, though. It was beautiful…and long. I'm sure he thought I was kidding, but I really didn't think it would fit. And honestly…it kind of didn't. And oh, God…the way it felt when he…

Dammit!

They've changed poses again!

I quickly follow suit into the Slide Plank pose. There…see? I can focus.

_What is wrong with me?_

_I was thinking about his…thing!_

_Fuck._

_If I can't call it by its name, I have no place thinking about it._

_I can call it what it is._

_I just called it…it._

_Just say it._

_I mean think it._

_Cock._

_I did it!_

_Cock._

_I did it again!_

_I am a sexual being._

_I am badass._

_Rose would be so proud._

_Edward's cock._

_Edward's hard and long cock._

_It was hard and long for me._

_I made it that way._

_He wanted me._

_He was jealous today because of me._

Wait! What's going on? They are already lying back down on the mat. I quickly lie down on the mat and assume the Resting Pose. Has an hour almost passed? I am more than surprised by my lack of focus, or rather my complete and total focus on the object of my affection…and his…_object_.

The instructor leads us into one last pose before breathing and meditation. The Happy Baby Pose. I pull my knees to my chest, open my knees wide and bring them down toward my arms all while holding my feet.

No.

There's absolutely nothing sexual about this.

Seriously.

I have to get out of this yoga class.

Now.

_**Namaste.**_

Twenty minutes later, I am standing in the locker room wrapped in a towel. I decide that I am going to get in the sauna. Maybe the heat will relax me. Or help me sweat out what is apparently the worst case of sexual frustration in history. As I think about that, it occurs to me that Edward probably has some sort of pamphlet or study regarding sexual frustration and that only makes me smile and miss him more.

Once inside the sauna, I close my eyes and lean back, breathing in the dry, hot air. Just as I feel my muscles relaxing, I feel more than hear the door open. I don't open my eyes, though. I continue to focus on the toxins that are seeping from my pours. This is wonderful, calming. The silence of the wooden room is broken as I hear a small, but chipper voice speak.

"It didn't seem like you could focus in yoga today."

I open my eyes, and across from me sits a girl from my yoga class. I recognize her right away. She has been in the class almost as long as me. She's a tiny little thing, almost waifish. She looks like Tinkerbell with dark hair.

I blush, but I'm glad that she can't tell. My face is already flushed from the heat.

"Umm…yeah," I say sheepishly.

"Tell me about him," she says with a warm smile.

"How did - what do – how do you know it's even about a him?" I ask her, tripping over my words.

"I know," she says with a wink. "Only a man can get us that out of sorts."

I laugh nervously.

"Come on," she urges. "Tell me about him."

I don't know what it is about her, but something in her smile or the way her dark eyes sparkle, makes me feel like I can talk to her.

So I do.

I tell her everything. The whole story…from Miami to now. She listens intently, smiling at all the places I do and frowning when I tell her about Edward's experiment. (Which makes me smile even more.)

"So you really like him?" she asks.

"Yes," I tell her wistfully. "So much."

"And you don't mind the long-distance thing with him going to Dartmouth?"

"Not right now, though proximity would be kind of nice. But, to be honest, I don't think we're ready for that just yet."

"And you like the emails?"

"I love the emails. I don't know how to explain it, but there is something that is so honest and real about them. I feel like I can be more…_open_ in the emails then I would be in person."

She looks at me and I can tell she doesn't quite know what I mean.

"Open how?" she finally asks.

"Well…neither of us is very experienced," I say as I look at her. Something tells me that I can be honest. "Sexually, I mean. We haven't had much sex…at all."

"But you want to, right?"

I bite my bottom lip and she offers me a smile, which I take as an invitation to continue.

"I mean he said he had a girlfriend before, but she sounded like a bitch." As I say this she snorts out loud. I am puzzled by her reaction.

"Aren't all ex-girlfriends bitches?" she asks playfully.

"I guess so," I agree with a giggle. "Anyway…we're not very experienced, but he makes me feel things. You know…want things I've only ever really fantasized about. I'm kind of…more forward with him in email. I know that I would never be able to say these things to him in person."

I look over at her and she's smiling this really sweet smile.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" I ask her.

"No," she says with a grin and looking somewhat…sentimental? "I think you're perfect for him."

I don't understand what she means by this, but I take the compliment and move on.

"I just really like him so much."

"I'm sure he really likes you, too…"

She lets the last word hang in the air and I realize that I never told her my name and I don't know hers.

"Bella," I say.

"Bella, it's a pleasure to meet you." She reached her little hand across the room. "I'm Alice."

My heart stops in my chest for a moment and I panic.

Alice? Isn't that the name of Edward's sister…that goes to Berkeley?

_Fuuuccckkk!_

As I'm going into full-blown panic mode, I hear her speak again.

"Alice Cullen. It's nice to meet you."

I breathe a sigh of relief and suck in deep breath of hot air.

_Cullen._

Her last name is Cullen.

She's _not_ Edward's sister!

Thank god. Can you imagine if I just told all of that to Edward's sister?

I would have died.

Thankfully…I'm in the clear.

Cullen is my new favorite word.

And I think that Alice is going to be a great new friend.

**EPOV**

"Fuck!" I close my email and pinch the bridge of my nose again. That woman is trying to kill me. I'm cursing, sweaty, and sexually frustrated. Simultaneously. I try to remember when that's happened before. It hasn't. Well, one time during a soccer game I got hit in the nose, but I definitely wasn't horny then- just sweaty and yelling 'shit' as blood poured from my hematoma.

"Whoa, Edward Masen dropping an F bomb. Did the medical school close down? Or did you get an A minus on a test?" Emmett. Maybe he can help me. Well, not in the way I really need it.

"Forgive my rudeness." I am apologetic though I'm sure he's not offended.

"Dude, I was fucking with you. I don't care if you curse or not. In fact, a good fuck is just what you need. We need to get you out there now that the ladies love you." He sits on my couch as I gather my gear for our game.

"Emmett, I'm not going out to pick up women. I'm. . . committed to Bella."

"Bella?" he asks, clearly confused.

"Bambi eyes," I mutter. I'm embarrassed to say the nickname aloud.

Recognition dawns on Emmett's features. "The Miami hottie? Is she sexting you? Need to relieve Little Eddie? I'll go in the other room."

"Sexting? Don't be so crude, Emmett. My Bella doesn't sext." I don't think so anyway. Hmm. I don't tell him but I am intrigued at the prospect. I mean with me of course, not with anyone else. She is a vixen, a goddess simply with her emails. Seriously, the French kissing and sex talk was almost too much for me to handle. When she purposely tries to arouse me, I may combust.

"So you and Bambi eyes hooked up? Son of a . . . for reals and shit?" he asks like it would be a miracle if that happened. Frankly, I'm insulted - by the question and his grammar.

"We did not 'hook up.' We have a relationship. That's when two mature adults care for each other." I border on the sarcastic. Bella must be rubbing off on me. Mmm. That thought didn't help my situation.

"No shit?"

"Your incredulous tone implies I lack the ability to attract women, Emmett. I'm offended."

"Dueling pistols or swords at sundown?" Emmett laughs. "Scratch that, Mr. Literal. You probably have some in your closet."

I bristle at the comment. "I only have my fencing gear. It's a foil, not a sword." I resist the urge to add 'so there.' Emmett is laughing loudly and I don't know what's funny.

Seeing my confusion, he regains his composure and asks, "So you and this 'Bella' are doing a long distance thing?"

"Yes, well, we are emailing each other. She's amazing." I actually sigh when I talk about her. Emmett cocks an eyebrow and I look sheepish. "She goes to Berkeley and she's brilliant and beautiful and. . ."

"And you are so whipped."

"By your context and tone I'll assume you mean enamored of her."

He takes a long look at me. "She rocked your world," he states.

I can't deny it. She owns me. One night of incredible sex and some emails and I'm completely ruined for all other women.

"Yeah." I can't come up a better answer. I must wear my heart on my sleeve because Emmett's teasing demeanor has vanished and is replaced by one of. . . envy? This is an unprecedented turn of events.

"I'm really happy for you, man. Does she know about Stanford, yet?"

"No. I don't want her to think I'm stalking her." Especially after that whole Berkeley/computer system thing.

"If she feels the same way, she'll be happy about it."

I change the subject. "Let's go to the game before we're late."

"I'm feeling really good about today's match. Those law school hacks won't know what hit 'em. Edward Masen has pent up energy he needs to release. Let's put those blue balls to use."

Crass, but true.

Two hours, three goals, and a yellow card later (those lawyers had it coming) - we are victorious.

Emmett and I share a victory drink at the local pub with the team. I'm feeling good - drinking a scotch. I can't drink anything else since tasting the remnants of my clumsiness off of Bella's skin. My response is conditioned - I'm erect at the smell - like Pavlov's horny dog. A sudden vibration in my pocket startles me and my erection.

Alice.

A text message.

_She's perfect for you._

**A/N**

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	7. Re: Anatomical Adventures

**A/N**

**Cosmogirl7481: So, we are totes sorry for those of you that didn't get Edward in your box.**

**Marvar: FanFiction cockblocked you.**

**Cosmogirl7481: We will post his response on the Twilighted thread. Consider our box, your box.**

**Marvar: And we love when you play in our box. It's cozy.**

*******************

**Chapter 6**

**Re: Anatomical Adventures**

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: French lessons

Dearest Bella,

Hi, Beautiful.

It pleases me greatly to hear that you had no intention of perpetrating the aforementioned stunt, which I have affectionately christened "nipplegate." I wanted to crawl through the computer and grasp you firmly and not let you go. Hmmm. That sounds good. I may still do that. (Not the computer part. I know that's impossible with today's limited technology.)

Thank you for offering to give me lessons. I actually have very effective study techniques of my own (I can send you an outline of my methods) - but I gather you are referring to amorous pursuits. In this area I submit to your will. You possess the confidence I lack. Maybe I need remediation? I have never uttered those words – but I am willing to do anything for you. Well, within reason. I frown upon illegal activities.

About your friend Rosalie and Emmett, I am fairly sure they did not have intercourse. He is usually free with information about his physical relationships. He has not mentioned anything about Miami except that he got a 'fuckhot' tan. (Again, his words.) I do plan to ask him about it since you are so interested.

It doesn't bother me that you use the word 'fuck,' I'm just glad that you don't use it when describing what happened between us. I know that on the surface our rendezvous would be described as a one-night-stand, but in reality, it was so much more . . . it was everything to me. I want many more nights like that. To be perfectly frank, I want ALL my nights like that. (Except you will have an orgasm this time.)

I laughed when you compared me to James Bond and Indiana Jones. I really am nothing like those suave, sophisticated characters – though I do have an Aston-Martin and my own tuxedo. Those movies are entertaining after you accept all of the technological and historical inaccuracies. The best part to me was playing "spot the anachronism" as a child. The whip was pretty cool, too.

You obviously have a very high opinion of me. Please believe that the feeling is mutual. I hope that I will live up to your expectations. (Maybe you don't remember me clearly?). Linguistic ability excites you, huh? I have a few phrases I can whisper in your ear when I get you under that tree. (I don't think we'll have much time for reading.)

I would love to show you France through my eyes. Our family usually spends a month there every summer, so I am your willing tour guide and French tutor - for any kind of French experience you want, Bella. The French activities you mentioned are quite an enticement. You don't know what it does to me to read that you have visions of us having a future. I do, too. I just want you to know that.

I am actually good at rock climbing; my father and I climb frequently – nothing too high. So your walls wouldn't be much of a problem if I needed to get up there (in case of emergency). I will gladly walk into your bedroom whenever I get the invitation.

So, speaking of bedrooms. . . you want me to tell you what I would do to you in my bed, Bella? I could tell you how I would adore and explore every inch of your glorious body until you were breathless, but I would rather show you. I think it would be more satisfying. You know how I prefer to be hands-on.

With devotion,

Edward

P.S. I expect a full transcript of your areolae's journal.

******************

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Killing Me Softly

Dear Edward,

Just so we're clear, I would love nothing more than for you to grasp me tightly and never let me go. I thought I would get that out in the open right up front.

Nipplegate? I suppose I should be flattered that if you are naming something after my nipples…at least you are naming it affectionately. Would you believe that prior to my knowing you, I don't think I've ever discussed my nipples at all…with anyone? And certainly not in such great detail. It makes me wonder, Edward. Are you a breast man?

In regards to your 'lessons,' I was definitely talking about matters of the heart…and body. And you don't have to submit to my will. I was rather hoping (fantasizing, actually) that I could submit to yours. I am not that experienced in these areas either. Maybe we could learn together? As for my confidence, I want you to know that I am not usually so forward. You make me feel bold and assertive. You have from the moment you led me to the bathroom in the bar.

Remediation, Edward? Please. There is no fault that needs correcting. I think you're perfect…for me anyway. Someone recently told me that I was perfect for you. I hope you feel the same way. You would really do anything for me? Don't worry that I would ask you to break the law. (Remember, my father is a sheriff.) Interesting fact, though: Oral sex is against the law in eighteen states. Including the state where I grew up. Are you still opposed to 'breaking the law' with me? Just curious.

I would never describe what we did as fucking. You're right…it was more. I just wish we hadn't had such a difficult time in the beginning. And really, Edward. Most women don't have the big "O" every time…especially their first time with someone. In fact, I've never had one with anyone other than myself. (Is that too much information?) Lately, ALL my nights are spent with you in one way or another. If I am not writing to you…or re-reading your emails for the millionth time…I assure you that I am thinking about you. Dreaming about you even. Do you ever dream of me?

You have an Aston-Martin??? Really…who are you? How can you have a car like that and be in college? I live on Ramen noodles and drive a beater truck. So, you also have a tux? The thought of you in a tuxedo is really a spectacular image. Tell me, if you aren't a super-sexy and 'fuckhot' spy, (quoting your friend, Emmett) why do you have a tux and drive a ridiculously expensive car? Do you drink martinis? I'm not sure that I'd make a good Pussy Galore.

I do have a high opinion of you, Edward. Truly. And even though I was intoxicated on the night of our encounter…I remember every moment vividly. I have no expectations, well, I had one…and you exceeded it on the first night. Maybe we could talk about that sometime? And yes, linguistic ability is definitely sexy…be it in English, Italian or French. I think that you are a cunning linguist. Your words make me hot.

You rock climb? That's so…so masculine and rugged. Wow. I really do think you are trying to kill me. It's not fair for you to put these images in my mind when I really do have to try to make it through the day with thinking about your…qualities. I find it difficult to focus and while I may be a flighty individual, I have always been able to center myself. I couldn't even focus in yoga yesterday! And yoga is all about focus. I can't even begin to tell you what I was thinking about. (Mortification would surely ensue.) Suffice to say that it was of you, Edward. All my thoughts are of you as of late.

Your bedroom sounds wonderful when you use words like adore, explore and glorious. I can certainly think of one 'glorious' thing I would like to see again…especially since you didn't describe it to me. (Don't worry. I remember. It _was_ glorious.) I know that you prefer to be hands-on…but just so you know…I might have to take things into my own hands in order to sustain some relief.

My question to you this time is: How do you see this progressing? By this I mean us. I like calling us 'us.' I like the way my name sounds with yours. I doodled them together today while I was in class like I was twelve years old.

Fervently (For real),

Bella

P.S.

The transcript that you wanted:

_Dear Diary,_

_Edward is so dreamy. _

_He makes me pucker like a lemon and his fingers give me different texture. _

_I like it._

_It feels good._

_The idea of him makes me blush a deeper shade of pink._

_And when he sucks the remnants of his scotch from me….well, maybe I should save that for another entry on another day._

_I need something to fill the time while he is he not around._

_Until next time,_

_Bella's (left) areolae._

P.P.S.

My post-script was written much to my chagrin and humiliation. But I told you that I would do it. I am a woman of my word. I hope you believe me now when I tell you…there is nothing I wouldn't do for you. My areolae are in agreement. My nipples are jealous that you didn't ask them for anything, but I told them I would pinch them later while I was thinking of you…again.

* * *

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Anatomy

Dearest Bella,

You continue to blow my mind.

I can honestly say that I have never, ever discussed a woman's nipples or areolae for that matter, out of a medical context. That is another example of how you affect me. I have never considered female anatomy in a purely sexual way, but I guess I am a breast man. (But Bella's breasts only.) I hope that doesn't offend you.

I can't imagine a more exciting study session than some one-on-one tutoring with you. (We won't need books.) I wouldn't even be embarrassed to admit my need for extra private lessons.

I have never before contemplated breaking the law, but I must admit that scenario you mention makes me want to do illegal activities - I just hope it's not a felony. (I will Google it.) You know I mean the oral sex, right? I am not a degenerate.

I know not all women have orgasms, Bella. I am just a type A over-achiever. Perfection is always my goal. So I promise that next time I won't stop until I get it right. And maybe some extra credit wouldn't hurt. Forgive me, but I'm not that sorry that no one else has done that for you – just more motivation for me.

My car isn't a big deal. It's my dad's old car. He wanted to buy me a new one for graduation, but I'm not really an ostentatious person. (My sister got a yellow Porsche.) I really don't think that qualifies me as a spy, let alone 'fuckhot.' I rarely do any of that spy stuff except for foreign travel and limited computer hacking. (That was to find you.) As for the tuxedo, my mother makes me go to many charity events and I could never rent a tuxedo - I have long arms and legs. Not to mention the germs that must infest those things. I can't imagine what it would look like with a black light shining over it. Appalling. As for the Pussy Galore comment, well you are quite a femme fatale (without the guile) - but I could never call you 'Pussy.' That is just rude.

The things that you find hot about me are strange but gratifying. Rock climbing, foreign phrases, and old cars? Really? You are so good for my confidence. I would have never been able to have these kinds of conversations before. (ie. flirting.)

I don't have words for the journal entry. I daresay that was the most erotic literature I have ever read. I had a profound reaction. I won't be specific about the details like the location of my reaction – just suffice it to say it was noticeable. I just hope that you don't expect a response from my scrotum. I don't think it is as eloquent.

Bella, I am very happy about the way things have progressed so far. But I can say that I want more. Much more.

Do you think that's something you want, too? What I want is to have an exclusive relationship. I can't bear to think of you emailing anyone else. (Of course you can conduct business and such. I am not a control freak.)

Yours, hopefully...

Edward

P.S.

I dream about you constantly. Only you. And I may or may not act like a gentleman at all times.

* * *

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Elated and Exclusive

My Dearest Edward,

I knew it.

I knew you were a breast man. Fortunately for you, I have been told that my 'rack is better than my shelf.' (Rosalie's words.) It's too bad that she and Emmett didn't get along. They seem to be MFEO. Have you ever seen Sleepless in Seattle? It's one of my all-time favorite movies. I just love Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks. Well, except for that Joe Versus the Volcano movie. It sucked…exponentially. They also did a movie about two people who fall in love as they email. That one may have a bigger and more prominent place in my heart now.

I would definitely be on board for some one on one study-time with you. I could spend hours learning everything about you…your thoughts and your mind…your body and your soul. All of it is fascinating to me. I would be like a sponge, soaking up every ounce of information and knowledge you would give me. I am not in medical school, but I'm an excellent student. And Edward, I would let you read me like an open book.

So, you're willing to break the law with me? I must admit that I am definitely prepared to be the Bonnie to your Clyde in that endeavor. You should know…I want you to know…that I would be a first-time offender. I'm an inexperienced criminal. I hope that you're okay with that.

I don't really care what kind of car you drive, but I appreciate your spy-like qualities. Especially since it helped you reconnect with me. I would like to see you in the tuxedo, though. I don't go to any big charity events or galas. I do volunteer at a local food bank in their soup kitchen, but I don't think you could wear a tux there. You might be just a touch overdressed. Maybe you could send me a picture? I would like that…very much.

As far as the things I find hot about you are concerned, I think I might have misled you just a touch. I do find all of those things very appealing. But even more than that, I found it much hotter that you wanted me to read to you underneath a tree. It was scorching when you called me sexy. (No one ever had before you.) It's the little things about you that make you unbelievably sexy and hot. The rest of it is just icing on the most delicious cake in the world.

I am glad you enjoyed the 'journal entry'. To be honest, I was really embarrassed to write it. I'm glad to know that you have a profound reaction. I don't need you to describe it. I assure you, I will have no problems imagining it. Probably in unfortunate places like yoga or the grocery store. I had a situation the other day in Whole Foods while I was picking out a cucumber. Needless to say, it was embarrassing. Speaking of embarrassing, I don't need to see a journal entry from your scrotum. And I am sure you don't need to write it.

I am more than happy with the way things have progressed with us. Blissful and elated are actually the words that come to mind. I want more, too. I don't know about you, but I have been exclusively yours since you asked me what kind of lotion I used. I hope that you have been exclusively mine. I could never email anyone else, Edward. Ever. That is something that I only want to do with you…well, that and everything else that we've discussed.

I am yours.

Will you be mine?

Only Yours,

Bella

P.S.

Do you use G-chat?

* * *

**BPOV**

I close my laptop and place it on the other side of the bed. I giggle to myself because Edward would be concerned for my posture that I was writing him in bed with no support. I feel the heat in my cheeks as I blush over the things that I have said to him. I bury my face into my pillow and groan, kicking my legs on the mattress. Am I aroused? Frustrated? Embarrassed?

All.

Definitely all.

I get up, stripping my clothes off and head to the bathroom to take a long, hot shower. Maybe that will relax me. I turn on the water to let it heat up and I grab some towels from the closet. I step in the shower and let the hot water rush over my body. It feels good and relaxing. I wet my hair and begin to wash it with the new shampoo I bought that smells like coconut. Edward seemed to like the fragrance of the suntan lotion, but really, who wears suntan lotion when they're not tanning? I like the fragrance. I like even more that it reminds me of him.

My mind starts to wonder and I think about Edward. I wonder what he's doing. Is he reading my email? Is he thinking of me? He was so much flirtier in his email this time. I am convinced that this emailing business was definitely the way to go. He is definitely more open and amorous than he was before. Not that I didn't really like who he was before. The truth is…he's still him. All perfectly wonderful and awkward and sexy. And fuck, if he isn't sexy.

Did I really write a journal entry from my areolae? I really hope he liked it and doesn't think it's stupid. I notice that my nipples have become erect just thinking about him. Christ! I'm wound so tight and I don't think I've ever felt like this before. I know I haven't. My hand involuntarily lifts and my fingers graze the sensitive skin.

It feels good.

Damn.

It really feels good.

What the hell? I mean, I did tell him that I would pinch them later while I was thinking of him. I know I was just trying to arouse him, but he has completely and utterly done the same thing to me with his perfect sculpted body and his altogether wonderful words. More his words than his body…but come on, his body is awesome!

He likes me.

He really likes me.

Crap. Images of Sally Field have made my nipples lose their boner. Back to Edward…mmmm…Edward. Edward wants to hold me…and never let go. Edward wants to 'adore' and 'explore' me…my body. Like he is Columbus and my body is a wonderland.

Wait!

The showerhead in here is a massager!

Fuck, yes.

Consider this tension relieved.

I turn, facing the spray of the water, reaching up and taking the showerhead in my hand. I twist the knob and find a setting with a steady, pulsing spray. I pray to god that I am able to maintain my upright position for what I'm about to do because surely she would understand my current need for release. I mean, she did create this perfect man that I can't stop thinking about, after all. I lift one leg to place on the side of the tub…you know…for better access. I suck in a deep breath and I bring the showerhead down to…well…down there.

Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!

The water is too hot!

I fear I've burned my clit off!

I quickly turn the water to cool and soothe my tender flesh. After a moment, all seems fine. I feel we (me, my clit and of course, my thoughts of Edward) are back in business. I test the water this time, carefully. Must remember that pink skin is much more sensitive to heat than regular skin.

I feel the pulsing spray against where I need it most and…

Nirvana.

I see Edward in my mind.

And oh, god…it feels goo –

"Hey, Bella! What's up?"

"Aragh!!!!"

I am startled and I slip and lose my balance. I catch myself on the shower curtain and thankfully, don't fall and hit my head on the porcelain of the tub. I could have died trying to get off with a shower massager! All right, maybe I wouldn't have died…but it still would have been embarrassing!

Wait!

This is embarrassing!

"Rosalie Hale!" I scream. "What the fuck are you doing?"

I try to steady myself on my legs that are now wobbly…and not wobbly from what I initially wanted.

"What?" she asks in a whiny voice. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Now?" I ask her, peeking my head around the curtain. "I'm in the shower!"

"So?" she replies. "I've seen you naked before, Bella."

I turn off the water and ask her to hand me my towels. She does and I dry myself off. I wrap one towel around my head and wrap myself in the other. I pull back the curtain and step out…glaring at her.

"I think we need to have a discussion about boundaries and personal space, Rose."

"I think you need to bite me, Bella."

I can't help myself, but I laugh at her statement. She's right. Normally, I wouldn't have minded the intrusion.

"What's going on?" I ask as I begin to dry my hair with the towel.

"Nothing much," she says. "What going on with you and your internet doctor?"

"He's not a doctor yet, Rose." I say. "He's in medical school."

"Whatever," she says flippantly. "Are you still emailing hot and heavy?"

I shoot her a dirty look and then I roll my eyes.

"Yes, we are still emailing," I tell her. "And anything hot or heavy is none of your business."

I turn to walk out of the bathroom so that I can get dressed.

"Hey, Bella?" she asks as I'm heading out the door.

"Yeah?"

"Why is the showerhead hanging down in the tub?"

I stop dead in my tracks and slowly turn around and look at her. She is standing there smirking with a knowing look on her face. I feel my face flush and embarrassment consumes me, but in that humiliating moment, I know what to do…and I smile.

"Hey, Rosalie?"

"Yeah?" she says, giggling.

"What happened with you and Emmett in Miami?"

And just like that, all thoughts of my attempts at self-pleasure are forgotten and it's my turn to grin.

"Nothing happened," she replies shortly. "And I told you…Emmett is a fucking dick-bag asshole!"

* * *

**EPOV**

"_I wrote the email."_

I read the new text from my sister.

Alice.

I should have known that she would somehow meet Bella. She has an uncanny ability to find out everything whether you like it or not. I am proud that she thinks Bella is perfect for me.

I spent an hour last night telling her about what happened during spring break. Well, not everything, because it seems that Bella is quite chatty. My little sister was rather angry that she had to find out about my 'soul mate' by accident. She scolded me for withholding information. She seems to think that she and Bella will be best friends. She wanted to tell her about me being her brother as soon as possible so I gave her Bella's email address and made her promise not to stalk her. I am somewhat hopeful that she will take heed of my warning.

Alice's text makes me think about Bella again and I need to read her emails. She is driving me crazy. It's lucky I have an excellent memory and don't need to study very long because I'm only reading Bella's words.

The woman writes foreplay.

Jesus, Bella.

"Ughh," I groan and push my chair back from my desk. Just words and thoughts (albeit sexy ones) and I'm completely erect. Again. Her journal about her breasts is nipple porn, well, areolae are not technically nipples, but the reaction is the same. I get up to lie on my bed and throw my pillow over my face in frustration. I try to think of abhorrent visuals like cysts and open wounds but not even that dissipates the throbbing need for release. I rarely felt the need to participate in masturbatory efforts, but since Bella, all I think about is sex. I really didn't think it was possible before, but now experiencing it, I believe in blue balls. More of a purple really, but the spirit of the phrase was accurate. I ache. Literally. This was not poetic embellishment.

If only she were here. Would she touch me there and relieve the pressure? Oh yes, Bella. You wanted me to tell you about my penis. Here it is. No, not penis, it's my rock-hard cock. I know you like it when I talk like that. You have its attention, baby.

I reach in my running shorts and release the tent pole that's threatening a mutiny. With my other hand I move the pillow behind my head to prop myself up. . . to watch what I'm about to do? It's like a train wreck – so wrong but I can't look away.

I slide my shorts down so I'm completely unfettered. I imagine her, not me, sliding my hand across my cock. Over the head and back down the shaft. Mmm. Bella. Her warm little hands stroking me . . . her scent swirling around . . . scent . . oh the lotion. . . I pull it out of my nightstand and squirt some on my hand. The extra lubrication and coconut aroma combine to make me even harder, if possible. Long, firm strokes, wrist twisting. . . I'm starting to perspire and take shallow breaths . . . I speed up, conjuring images of my girl and what she would look like bouncing on me . . . over me . . . writhing under me. I start thrusting my hips against my hand and with an 'ughhh' and a 'fuck, Bella' I release long, hot spurts into my hand. My breathing starts to slow down and I can't believe I just did that.

I can't believe how good it was.

Or how gross the clean up was.

"Edward!" The sound of Emmett startles me and my post-orgasm high is ruined. I rise to let him in, hastily throwing the towel containing my emissions in the hamper and pulling on my shorts.

"I'm coming, Emmett." I snort at my statement. I open the door for my friend with the poor timing. Well, I guess his timing could have been worse. I cringe at the thought of being caught in flagrante dilecto.

Emmett looks at me and cocks an eyebrow. I realize I am sweaty, flushed, and only wearing a pair of running shorts. Great.

"Um, caught you at a bad time, Edward?" he asks with a laugh. "Start your workout without me?"

"Uh, yeah. I was doing some, um, forearm work." Smooth recovery. "Let me go wash up and we can go to the gym." Please don't be too observant, Emmett.

"Sure. Hey, can I print up some docs on your computer? My printer finally died." he calls out as I'm washing the results of my self-love off of me.

"Yeah," I reply as I finish up in the bathroom. I am fast, but not fast enough.

"Fuck, Edward. Little Miss Nipples wants your ass bad. Nice work, bro. I didn't know you had it in you. Or in her, should I say." He cracks up at his own stupid joke. He's seated at my desk looking at my computer. . . shit!

"Damn it!" I am mortified that Emmett has seen my emails that I stupidly didn't close and the fact I'm cursing like a sailor.

"Dude, don't get sensitive. You should be proud. That girl is begging you to have cyber-sex."

"Yeah?" I'm feeling rather pleased that Emmett believes this, despite the fact he has violated my privacy.

"For reals, Ed. Nips is totally into you. Isn't it obvious?"

"Really?" It's flattering that Emmett concludes that 'Nips' has feelings for me.

Wait, what did he call her?

"Emmett, please do not refer to my Bella as 'Nips.' That is degrading to her," I angrily retort.

"Relax. I won't call her that. Jeez, didn't loving on 'Little Eddie' in the middle of the day loosen you up?"

Emmett – he's perceptive and insightful and completely inappropriate. His brusqueness doesn't embarrass me, however.

"I am actually feeling rather relaxed," I grin.

"Holy shit, did you just smile and joke with me? That chick must be something."

"No. She's everything."

Emmett stares at me. "That was really poetic, man. I wish I could find someone who makes me feel like that."

"Are you giving up your title as campus lothario?" I question. This is a new Emmett.

"I don't want to be a man-whore anymore. I want a smart girl who loves me for me and not my looks. I thought I found her in Miami, but. . ." his voice sounds wistful as it trails off.

"You met someone in Miami?"

"Yeah. I thought maybe she was special, you know. But then she acted like an airhead and wanted what all the other bar sluts want from me, so I blew her off."

Now this development is completely unforeseen. It has to be her.

"What was her name, Emmett?"

"Rose."

*****************

**A/N**

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	8. Re: Fumbling and Foreplay

**A/N**

Did you like getting Emmett in your box this week? He was disappointed at the lack of nicknames.

Marvar: We weren't going to have an A/N this week, but so many people love them. . .

Cosmogirl7481: And we really love our readers. . .

Marvar: But it's late as hell, so just read the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Re: Fumbling and Foreplay

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Exclusivity

My One and Only,

Is it foolish that I practically giggle when I see your name in my box? If so, then I am a fool for you and I gladly wear that moniker with pride. I didn't even turn off my phone during my class - I didn't open the email obviously (I am not a complete rebel)- but I took comfort in the fact it was there.

I love how you expose me to new movies. I have not seen 'Sleepless in Seattle" or the other movie about volcanism - did it suck because the scientific conclusion was poorly supported? I would really like to see the one about two people falling in love through emails - for obvious reasons. (You know I mean you and me, right?) I do not know what the insomnia movie is all about, but sleeplessness is a serious problem. If you have concerns, I can send you some information.

I googled MFEO and had to return to the Urban Dictionary (under protest because of that whole obscenity issue) to get the meaning. (An aside- I also had to look up 'rack' and 'shelf.' Both of which are equally perfect on you.) So you think that Rosalie and Emmett are made for each other? Why? I asked him about Miami and something did happen between them. I cannot repeat it because that would betray his trust, but I think he may have feelings for her. By the way, do you think we are MFEO? I do.

The Bonnie and Clyde reference is one that I am familiar with - my mother has an affection for Warren Beatty. (I am actually shocked at the voracity of her devotion.) I'm sure you don't actually mean that you would like to actually commit crimes - I'm assuming you are creating a metaphor. I am trying not to be so literal in my analysis.

You volunteer in a soup kitchen? That makes me appreciate you even more. Most young women are too shallow to do anything so unselfish. The girls that volunteer at the hospital usually are more concerned with getting dates with the residents than helping people.

I am confident that you are an excellent student. I value the fact that you don't write with strange abbreviations and acronyms. I find the bastardization of the English language disconcerting. ('You' is not that difficult to type.) We can study, Bella, but I will only study your every lovely feature. I don't think I can concentrate on any books.

Bella, thank you for saying that you will not explore any other email relationships while we are involved. My heart swelled when I read that. I hope that you will not have any other type of romantic connection - in person or otherwise. I know I won't. I am decisive when I know what I want.

And Bella, all I want is you.

All my devotion,

Edward

P.S. Do you want to use G-chat?

* * *

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Dizzy Dreams

Dear Edward,

You know that you are my one and only, too…don't you?

When you talk of other relationships – romantic or otherwise – there is no otherwise. There is only you. I want you to know that you _are_ the romance in my life. Every word of every email contains more romance than I have ever known. You are Romeo and Lancelot. You are Darcy and Rochester. You are Justin Timberlake and Jon Stewart. (Not that they are famous romantic men, but I always had a crush on them…until now, of course.) You, Edward, encompass every romantic fantasy that I have ever had…and you do it much better.

We could watch romantic movies anytime you like. I have an entire collection of great love stories. Oddly enough, I haven't watched one since we began our correspondence. I find that my 'real life' is far more interesting than anything I could watch in a movie. (For the first time ever.) And your emails are much more entertaining.

I do not have insomnia. Please do not worry. In all honesty, I am sleeping much better as of late. I think it has something to do with my dreams…and the person starring in them. Just so there's no misunderstanding – the leading role belongs to you. And let me just say…each night is a stellar and award winning performance. I am more than happy to be your co-star. In fact, I am ecstatic.

I do think that Rosalie and Emmett are made for each other, based on what you've told me about him. He talked to you about her? I knew that they must have met. Did he tell you everything? It kills me that you know the story and I don't. I find it interesting that you think that he has feelings for her. When I asked her about him again…she had a terribly strong reaction. To say it was negative would be a massive understatement. It was visceral. It was vulgar. I respect that you won't betray his confidence…I would never betray hers, but she didn't tell me it was a secret. She called him a "fucking dick-bag asshole" and I'm pretty sure you could quote me on that.

Also…I think that we are even more MFEO than they are.

Infinitely more.

I am an excellent student. I always have been. I think it's because I was always more apt to have my nose in a book than anything else. I think that is what gave me a greater appreciation for the written word. I don't like people who speak in acronyms or 'text-speak' as Rosalie calls it. I always have to call her to find out what her text-messages mean. However, I do have one request. Can we keep MFEO? I kind of love it and it could be something that was just between us. Well, us…and the zillion other people that have seen that movie.

As far as g-chat is concerned, that is definitely something I would like to do. The truth is I would love nothing more than to pick up the phone and call you…to hear the voice that visits my dreams and makes up my fantasies. But, I don't really know if you will find me the same on the phone. I know that I have been terribly flirtatious and suggestive with you in my emails, but it's easier to be like that in this venue. If we were on the phone, I'm afraid I would be so nervous that I would end up not talking. Something tells me that you might feel the same way. Am I off base?

I had Rosalie help me set up a g-chat account. She gave me a stupid name and refused to change it. I wanted it to be BellaLovesBooks. I am mortified to even share the actual name with you. But you'll see it soon enough I guess. So if you want to 'chat'…my chat-name is:

**DizzyBella69**

What do you know? There are some embarrassments that even email can't disguise. . .

Longingly,

Bella

P.S.

I met a girl at yoga and I think I really like her. She emailed me to invite me out for drinks. I was wondering, do you drink scotch all the time…or was that just in Miami?

**EPOV**

Scotch. Why does everything make me think about Bella?

March 12, 2010

Carpe Diem, Edward. My new motto.

Bella and I are in a cab riding to my hotel. I can barely believe it until her tongue flicks my ear and the sensation causes all blood to pool in my groin. I know that's not technically possible, but it feels that way. Her little warm hands are threading through my hair and causing fire to spread in my abdomen. I've read about these processes but the reality is mind-blowing. I'm starting to perspire as she begins a slow lick of my neck to my jaw. This is really happening. I'm taking a gorgeous girl to my hotel and we're going to have sex! Gah, I nearly release in my pants at the thought. That and the fact she is now on my lap rubbing against my erection.

"So, Bella, what's your major?" I attempt to sound cool and collected so I can get to know this goddess before we 'know' each other in the biblical sense. She freezes for a fraction of a second and snorts. I make a second attempt at small talk, "What school do you go to?"

"Do you really want to talk, Edward? We can do other things . . . " she trails off as she licks my bottom lip. I groan and know I can't resist her. I don't want to.

I just want.

Lips, tongue, soft skin - her scent that is burned into my brain. Sensory overload.

My hands, which I've clutched to my sides in an effort to not seem like a complete pervert during the ride, reach for her hips and pull her flush against me. One hand slides up her back into her hair and the other cups her chin to guide my mouth to hers. Her hot tongue meets mine and it's heaven. I've never felt this before. Every cliché possible flashes into my mind, but they are all true.

_She is made for me. _

_I've never felt this way before. _

_It is meant to be. _

I hear a throat clearing and I am broken from my reverie by the cab driver. We have arrived at my hotel. I hastily pull out some bills and throw them on the front seat. Bella is still wrapped around me; I nudge her so we can exit. She backs out, pulling me with her, not willing to break contact. We enter the lobby and I pause.

"Would you like to accompany me up to my room?" I ask because I am a gentleman, not one of those cretins you see in teenage sex comedies.

Her response is to wrap her arms around my neck and kiss me deeply. I can interpret that nonverbal response as an affirmative. We make our way to the elevator in a haze of lust. . . I hear beeping and it's the elevator because foreplay apparently saps my ability to function in a nonsexual manner. I push the appropriate floor while Bella's hands work magic under my shirt – I wonder if she'll know that I've been working out? Her touch is slow and sensual and unlike anything I've felt.

_How slow is this elevator? _

I am consumed with desire for this dark-haired beauty and want to ravage her, please her, but insecurity begins to creep into my thoughts. The elevator dings before I can process any negative ideas and say something stupid, thankfully.

We clamber out, slightly off balance, drunk with desire - and some alcohol - towards my room. I open the door for us and we spill into the dark. I can't help myself from tasting her mouth again and she pushes me toward the bed.

_Yes! _

I want to get her naked right now but I pause to look into her eyes for approval. The deep brown pools entreat me to continue.

"Bella. . ." I'm practically moaning. I'm against the bed. I feel like I'm watching someone else's body in slow motion, because nothing like this ever happens to me. I mean, I'm Edward Masen – king of awkward and unhip. I check out books, not women. The fact that I use the word 'unhip' is proof positive of my lack of cool.

She stares at me with desire in her eyes and I swear it's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen. I'm sitting on the bed with her between my legs. Suddenly she's on me and over me, perched on my waist, legs straddling my sides. . .her hips begin rubbing against me - there - it must be on purpose. . . Yes - she just rolled right against my cock. I growl because I can't speak . . . I can barely breathe, I'm panting like I've just climbed over 10,000 feet. . . I must gather my thoughts before she takes me for an illiterate.

"Ti desidero disperatamente," I murmur at her. I do 'want her desperately,' but it sounds less needy in Italian. Her eyes flash and I wonder if she knows what I just said.

Then. . .Bella is . . .oh! Her shirt is on the floor and I don't need to fantasize about what is beneath it anymore. My imagination is inadequate.

What was only hinted at before is now on display - for me. Perfect, rosy flesh. . . so - so ahhh.. . I can't think. I've been hypnotized by Bella's breasts. They are holding a pendulum and it's swaying . . . back and forth.

"May I - may I touch them?" I ask, stupidly. My inexperience is starting to irritate me. I hope Bella doesn't notice that I am lacking skills. Maybe I _should_ have watched those adult films Emmett gave me so I could get some pointers.

She leans forward and I lie on my back so that her breasts are dangling provocatively over my face - it's perfection, literally right before my eyes. I'm still under their spell when she responds - to my question? I think I asked something.

"Well," she says in an unbelievably sexy voice, "you may, but wouldn't you rather umm…I don't know…kiss them?"

I am a lucky man.

I sit up slightly against the headboard and tentatively reach for her and when I stroke the soft, warm skin, I can't believe how perfect it is. I'm caressing her and she is responding to me by pressing her hot body against my hardness. This is the way it's supposed to be. Real breasts trump fake, plastic any day. Then my mouth is moving, my tongue is tasting. . . scotch? I suck and lick the essence that coats her skin - it's mixed with Bella-flavoring. My hands are awkward but I think my lips are making up for it.

"Oh. . . oh, god," she moans and I touch her body with my hands because they need a job in this seduction scene. I gain confidence with this sound of approval and toy with the nipple that has been teasing me. I tilt my head and pull my mouth away from her chest and I look for another reaction. I am still not completely sure and seek reassurance from her.

She knows what I want, "So good," she says. I am beyond thrilled and I continue touching and massaging and am rewarded with more crotch grinding which feels quite fantastic. She tells me to pinch her nipple and I have doubts, but I'd probably drop out of college and go hitchhiking cross-country if she asked me to. She makes a shocked sound as I tweak, and I sooth the little bud with my tongue, enjoying the sweetness. I must be doing this right because suddenly she's kissing me with abandon and writhing above me as my back presses against the mattress.

Heat blazes from her center when she rubs against me; I roll my hips to meet her and I have found my new favorite sex act. Everything I do with her becomes my new favorite. I don't think what I had before could qualify as sex. It's not even in the same category.

We become more frantic in our movements, then she sits up and looks at the button on my jeans. . .she wants them off and I am more than happy to comply. She pushes my jeans and boxers down and off and my erection is standing in rapt attention, awaiting instructions. . . her hot hand is holding me, stroking me, as I throb at every touch. . .

* * *

BPOV

I know that I should be aware of my surroundings, but I'm not. We are in a cab, heading back to his hotel, but we could be on a bus in the middle of Times Square and no one would be able to pull me from his side. I wrap my arms around his neck and though I have never found the ear a particularly sexy body part, I cannot stop myself from licking his. He seems to like it…I think. I feel his body tense and I need to pull him closer and my tongue is lapping his neck like it is an ice cream cone…but he tastes better. Like sea-salt and skin, but much sweeter. I bring my hands to his hair and throwing any caution I have left out the window, I crawl into his lap.

I press myself against him and briefly wonder why he isn't touching me and if I am being too aggressive, but I think that if that were true, he would have asked me to stop. Besides…I can feel him as I sit on his lap and what I am feeling, is definitely telling me that he is excited about what is happening between us. I am pretty sure that he's asking me about school…my major. I stop my current assault and I think I laughed out loud.

"Do you really want to talk, Edward? We can do other things…" I say and I kiss his full lips that are just in front of me…because I can.

He must like it because suddenly, his hands are on me…my ass. He is pulling me closer and kissing me back now. Fervently.

The rest of the cab ride passes in a haze of kisses and touches…I hardly notice when we reach the hotel because his tongue is so much more interesting than anything around me.

I pull him from the car and he leads me inside, stopping briefly to ask if I want to join him in his room.

_Yes, please, sex god. _

_Take me to your room._

Once we are in the elevator, I need to touch him. His arms are wrapped around me and I push my hands underneath his shirt sliding and dragging my fingers over his abs. And let me just say, Edward is hard in more than one place.

He unlocks and opens the door to the room and we stumble inside…and he kisses me again.

_I am dizzy._

_This is happening._

_I really want it to._

I push him to the bed, and the look in his eyes as he sits before me is passionate.

And there he is - this gorgeous man that has just looked at me wantonly and has said my name as if it were a prayer. I allow myself to revel in the fact that I am about to have sex…not only that, I am about to have sex with someone that is hotter than Johnny Depp.

"_Wait_," my mind scolds me. "_No one is hotter than Johnny Depp_!"

"_Shut the fuck up_," I argue back. "_Look at him_!"

So, I do…and he is still there before me on the bed, looking at me as if I was the prize and he is the winner. Feeling emboldened, I crawl on top of him and straddle him around his waist. I feel him through our clothes and god, he is hard! I rub myself against him…against it, but it isn't enough so I press harder and he growls. The sound of it seems to shock him and succeeds in only making me…_horny_? Is that what I am? His kissable lips are parted and I hear him panting before he speaks.

He murmurs something to me in Italian and it's the sexiest thing I've heard…well, since he spoke Italian to me at the bar.

I don't even know what he's said, but feel as if he deserves to be rewarded, so without hesitation I pull my top over my head, exposing my bare breasts to him for the first time. And he is awestruck…speechless. I come to the conclusion that boobs are more powerful than…well, anything. I never knew that I had this kind of weapon at my disposal. I briefly wonder why women don't walk around topless more often. I am sure that naked women could take over the world. I am pulled from my ridiculous train of thought by the sound of his voice.

"May I – may I touch them?" he asks me almost nervously and I realize just how awestruck he is.

Internally, I do a happy dance because grammatically, he has spoken correctly. This pleases me…and turns me on almost as much as his perfect body…almost. I don't know what comes over me, but I lean forward, placing my palms on the bed beside his shoulders. I feel my breasts fall forward and they are so close to his face. This doesn't go unnoticed by him and I am reveling in the fact that I am such a vixen. He makes me this way. Well, a combination of him and the alcohol. I should always be drunk and naked! (But only with him.) No! Wait! He has asked me a question and I need to answer.

"Well," I say breathy and low. I sound sexy and I'm not even trying to. "You may, but wouldn't you rather umm…I don't know…kiss them?"

I mean, he is supposed to want to kiss them…right?

I definitely want him to. His hands feel wonderful, but just the thought of his mouth is making me crazy.

All soft and wet and sucking…and god! Why isn't he saying something? I look back down at him and without warning he lifts his head and takes my breast into his mouth. I wanted it, but am not prepared for the overwhelming sensation of his warm, moist mouth licking and sucking and kissing me.

"Oh…oh, god," I moan as he drags his hand along my ribs and takes the other breast into his hand.

He seems unsure at first about what to do with his hand, but it doesn't matter what his hands can do when his mouth is fucking genius!

"_Fuck you, Johnny Depp_!" I think to myself. "_This is better than every fantasy I've ever had about you!_"

Eventually his fingers find my nipple and he begins to play with the puckered skin. He pulls his mouth from me and looks into my eyes, seeking…approval? Encouragement? Direction? I'm not sure what he wants, but as his awed green eyes search mine…I want to give him everything.

"So good," I tell him and he smiles.

"Really?" he asks sheepishly.

"Yeah, really," I say, pressing myself harder against the bulge in his pants to punctuate my praise.

He is holding both breasts in his hands now…cupping, massaging, driving me crazy. His thumb and finger rolling my nipple in between them.

"Pinch it," I whisper, feeling bold and unafraid…and frankly, kind of unsure if I will like it. But there is no time like the present to find out.

I look on as he stares at my breast…my nipple…and he does as he's instructed and _motherfucker-motherfucker _it hurts! I cry out and I think he thinks I liked it, but before I can decide, he is licking and kissing the tender nipple. And yeah…I like it.

He pulls back, clearly pleased with himself and I want to kiss him, so I do. He falls back onto the bed and I am now lying on top of him…kissing him deeply. It's not as smooth as the kisses you see in the movies, but I don't care because this kiss is real. This god-like man is real…and currently pushing up against my aching center.

This grinding business is really great and all, but I want to see him naked. I pull my mouth from his, pushing up and hold myself above him on my knees. Now, I am the one silently asking for permission. My hands reach down and unbutton his jeans and I can feel him against the side of my hand. He isn't stopping me so I continue on this 'get Edward naked' endeavor. I try to push his pants down and he eagerly lifts his hips in order to help me along. I can't look away as his boxers and denim push past his waist and I am shocked as he springs free.

And he is huge.

And beautiful.

I want to make a comparison to Tyler, because his is the only one I've ever seen…but the sight of Edward's huge, beautiful thing is so overwhelming…I just can't. I touch it, fascinated by how it responds to me. It jumps in my hand and as I circle my palm around it, I realize…

_He's never going to fit._

* * *

**End Notes:**

Sorry about the cockblock. We promise to make it up to you next week.

If you want more LiMB, we are auctioning 5,000 words for Fandom Gives Back Eclipse. Please contact AllyinPerth on Twitter. She has graciously volunteered to be Team LiMB captain.

Thank you to KStew411 for the awesome rec this week.

And a special thanks to RoseArcadia who rec'd us on her blog Thursday. You can find our blinkie codes there.

Check out the LiMB thread or follow us on Twitter:

Cosmogirl7481 and Marvar29

_**Reviewers get love in their box. **_


	9. Re: Tantric Sex and Text Messages

A/N

Marvar: I'm praying for rain right now so baseball will be cancelled and I can go home and finish this chapter.

Cosmogirl7481: Want me to do a rain dance?

Marvar: Yes, get fucking native.

Cosmogirl7481: Okay…please call me Windsong or some shit.

Marvar: Prances With Boobs.

Cosmogirl7481: Yes! Even Better!

Marvar: Pocahantits.

Cosmogirl7481: Bwahahahaha!!!! That's the best!

Marvar: I cracked myself up with that one.

Cosmogirl7481: That should be my new penname.

**Chapter 8 **

**Re: Tantric Sex and Text Messages**

*****************

LatinLover invites dizzybella69 to chat. . .

LatinLover: Hi, Beautiful.

dizzybella69: I don't know who you are. Please don't bother me.

*

*

*

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Recent rebuke

My dearest Bella,

Well, I'm glad to know that you won't chat with just anyone. Earlier I invited you to converse with me, but I was rebuffed. I'll try not to take it personally. I'll assume that you didn't know it was me. There could be quite a few fans of foreign languages out there.

Of the men you mentioned, I envy Darcy because he got to marry his lady love. Lucky man. I am glad to hear that you like romantic movies. I am a fan of old, black and white films. It's something I enjoy from my youth. I used to watch them with my grandmother. I hope that is something we could do together.

Can you believe that it's been a month since we met? It feels like forever since I held you last. I wish that I could see you everyday, but I will have to settle for these conversations. Don't get me wrong, I love every word you write, but I long to touch your soft skin again. Dare I mention that I am working on something that may bring me closer to you? Nothing is certain, yet. But I am confident. You see, I know that we are MFEO.

Definitely more than Emmett and Rosalie. (No offense, but I am highly competitive.)

So, Beautiful Bella, next time LatinLover invites you to chat, please accept. I cannot bear for you to turn me down. For anything.

Faithfully yours,

Edward

* * *

LatinLover: Bella, you know this is Edward, now, right?

dizzybella69: I do now...but I just have to ask. LatinLover? Are you into Ricky Martin or something?

LatinLover: Why do you ask? I just really love Latin. Who doesn't?

dizzybella69: Oh...you mean Latin...like the language?

LatinLover: Of course, what else would I mean?

dizzybella69: I thought that maybe you meant like Latin Lover...you know, Latin...like salsa dancing and heat.

Ricky Martin is a Latin pop singer. You've never heard of him? La Vida Loca?

LatinLover: Crazy life? No, I prefer order rather than chaos.

I know how to waltz, and I prefer moderate temperatures. My favorite language is Latin. Although your recent comments about my use of Italian phrases may change my preference.

dizzybella69: If you could see me now, I would be blushing. I love the Italian. It's romantic and so...hot.

LatinLover: Now I really want to say something romantic.

But I don't get to see your reactions. I can only imagine them.

dizzybella69: What do you imagine, Edward?

LatinLover: Um. . .Maybe I shouldn't say.

dizzybella69: Why? Do you not want to tell me? Is it something bad?

LatinLover: No, it's not bad. It's just that I don't want you to think that I'm too forward when I tell you about my un-chaste thoughts.

dizzybella69: Well, I don't want to embarrass you, but I think it's pretty safe to say that...I am the forward one here.

LatinLover: I like when you are forward. I need you to show me. . .

dizzybella69: I would really like to know what these 'un-chaste' thoughts are about...because my thoughts aren't exactly pristine. I want to show you so much...but honestly, I need you to show me too.

dizzybella69: How about this....will you answer a couple of questions?

LatinLover: I would show you anything. . .I will answer anything. . .Well, let me qualify that. . .within reason.

dizzybella69: Did you think about me before you went to sleep last night...umm...you know...while you were in bed? Is that within reason?

LatinLover: Yes. It falls within my parameters of decency.

dizzybella69: Okay, then. Answer it for me...please.

LatinLover: Yes.

dizzybella69: Really?

LatinLover: Of course. I don't lie.

dizzybella69: Okay...what did you think about?

LatinLover: You.

dizzybella69: When you say me...do you mean you were thinking about if I was well...or did you wonder what I was doing?

LatinLover: I was thinking about when we had sex.

dizzybella69: ((blushing))

What about when we had sex?

LatinLover: Are you blushing because we are talking about sex or because you are embarrassed by us doing it?

dizzybella69: Talking...definitely. I could never be embarrassed by what we did. Well, I am embarrassed a little...but only because I was so awkward and inexperienced.

But, Edward...even though I'm blushing, I want to talk about it.

LatinLover: You were inexperienced? It didn't seem like that to me. I mean not that you were too experienced or anything. Just perfect. I was the one who was useless.

dizzybella69: Are you kidding? You didn't think I was inexperienced?

And you weren't useless. I promise,

LatinLover: I don't kid, either. My conversations lean towards the literal. I thought you did everything perfectly.

dizzybella69: I tend to joke a lot. Does that bother you? I know my sarcasm gets on Rose's nerves.

And Edward...I'm sure I wasn't perfect.

LatinLover: You could never get on my nerves, Bella. Sarcasm is a form of wit.

LatinLover: And you were. . .are perfect. I've run out of superlatives to describe you. I need to Google some new ones.

dizzybella69: I don't know about the not getting on your nerves thing. What if we were in bed together...you know, again...and I was eating crackers? That wouldn't get on your nerves?

LatinLover: Bella, if we were in bed, why would you want to eat crackers? That's not what I want to eat.

dizzybella69: Oh...thank god. That's not what I want either. I was just nervous and I didn't know what to say. Can I ask you another question?

LatinLover: Yes.

dizzybella69: Okay...what would you want to do if I was there with you...in your bed?

LatinLover: I would want a second chance.

dizzybella69: A second chance at what?

LatinLover: To pleasure you. The failure has been eating at me, and honestly I think that's why. . .you left.

dizzybella69: That's not why I left Edward. And you did...you know..pleasure me. Really. I know I didn't...umm...you know...climax, but you did please me. A lot.

Also, please don't call yourself a failure...you are anything but.

LatinLover: So I've been studying for my make-up test. And I think I can get 100% this time. (You know what I mean, right?)

dizzybella69: I do know what you mean. Tell me, how have you been studying?

LatinLover: Emmett told me to watch porn, and I did read the Kama Sutra.

dizzybella69: Kama Sutra? Is that what Sting does?

You umm..watch porn?

LatinLover: I haven't . . .ever. Emmett gave me some to 'loosen me up,' but I couldn't.

dizzybella69: Do you think it's bad?

LatinLover: No, not bad. I. . . you don't?

dizzybella69: The only reason I ask...is because...well, sometimes I watch porn. Only sometimes. Please don't think I'm slutty.

LatinLover: First, I would never think of you as a . . .I can't even say it in reference to you. Second, I would like to watch . . .with you. Would that be acceptable?

dizzybella69: Really? You would want to watch with me? I like to watch because I am visually stimulated...if you were with me and we were watching porn...I might be over-stimulated. LOL.

LatinLover: Um, maybe I could help with that? I could relieve some of your stress.

dizzybella69: Do you have any 'stress' that needs relieving?

Maybe we could relieve each other?

LatinLover: Um...do you want to? And, just to be clear, we're talking about sexual acts and not a massage?

dizzybella69: I do want to...so much. Edward...I'm in bed right now 'talking' to you....and all I can think about is what we could be doing if you were here with me. Sexual acts, of course...though I wouldn't mind a massage. I could even massage you. I can think of a way to rub you that would definitely be sexual.

LatinLover: Rubbing sounds. . . excellent? I have read about some things that I would like to try. . .with you.

Would you like me to email you some research? There are some anatomically correct diagrams that could be helpful. The Tantric sex information is quite fascinating.

dizzybella69: No...if you wouldn't mind...I'd much rather you tell me about it. If you're descriptive enough, I'm sure I can visualize what you would like to try...with me.

LatinLover: I was thinking that my long fingers were conducive to some manual stimulation. (I may have Googled "sex.") I am quite sure that I can find your g-spot, now.

dizzybella69: Your fingers were definitely stimulating. I remember the way they felt...Is it bad that I'm turned on at just the thought of that? Of you...and your fingers?

LatinLover: Bella, I've have been aroused this whole time.

Oh shit, I'm sorry. That just came out.

dizzybella69: You're aroused? And you cursed? That's so...dirty. And I liked it. Edward...I'm glad you told me that.

LatinLover: Really? Fuck. I'm completely hard.

Was that hot, or are you completely mortified by my outburst?

Um, Bella, I need to take a shower before bed.

dizzybella69: Oh…okay. Goodnight, Edward.

* * *

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Morning After

Dear Edward,

Even though, in the light of day, I am a little embarrassed by some of the things I said, (especially the porn part) I want you to know that I really enjoyed our chat last night. I like when you let your guard down. It's…it's sexy. You're sexy. And you…you make me feel sexy.

I really hope that you don't think less of me for some of the things I told you. I am not ashamed of anything I said…I just want to know what you're thinking. What you're feeling. It's hard not being able to get a physical response or an audible reaction. Sometimes I just can't tell. But sometimes…I can. And when I can, Edward…when I can, it's really wonderful.

I have plans tonight to go out with a new friend. She seems nice and I'm really looking forward to it. What are your plans for the rest of the day? Rose is still being secretive about Emmett. I keep trying to tell her that secrets don't make friends, but she just rolls her eyes and tells me that I'm already her friend and to stop my bitching.

I hope you have a wonderful day. Just remember that someone on the other side of the country is thinking about you…a lot. I'm glad the paper I'm currently working on is about Romance in Women's Literature; Past and Present. It doesn't make me feel so bad when my mind drifts to you. You are synonymous with romance for me.

'Talk' to you later.

Missing you,

Bella

* * *

EPOV

Sex fantasies. Highlight of my day - and night. Full color, vivid, uncut - that last one was definitely NC-17 - starring Bella. Really must try to stop these thoughts. Except the part where I'm completely insatiable and bring her to ecstasies unknown. That part is fantastic. Okay, I can't lie, all of it is fantastic.

But I don't want to be a monster!

Well, Edward, what do you expect when your love is 2,666 miles away? Yeah, so I Googled it. We won't be apart much longer if my plans are amenable to her. I graduate in less than a month and I'll start my residency at Stanford Hospital in California this fall. Then. . .we can be together. Like for reals. Gah! Must stop learning phrases from Emmett. For being an engineering genius, he has the conversational vocabulary of a 12 year-old.

My mind gets back on track as my class ends. A few classmates invite me to study groups later tonight, but I politely decline. I snort as I ponder the effectiveness of studying in a bar on Friday night. No wonder Lauren and those other ladies have such poor grades. I check my phone, but alas no message from Bella, only a voice message from my father. I call him back right away.

"Edward? It's good to hear from you, son," my dad answers on the first ring.

"How's mom?"

"Great, now that she knows that she gets to be closer to you and Alice."

"You got the job?" I ask excitedly.

"And the house. We move in two months. I'm hoping she doesn't want to redesign the whole place. You know how she gets," he laughs, deep and booming. I miss that sound. I'm positively giddy at the idea of the move so that I can hear it more often. Ahh, who was I kidding? I love my family, but I have a physical ache in my chest for Bella. (This was previously documented by an EKG.)

My dad has accepted the position of Dean of Stanford Medical School, and the whole family is moving to Palo Alto. The move to California will be win/win for everyone, but most especially me. A certain brown-haired beauty holds my heart in Berkeley.

"So, Edward, your sister tells me you have a new girlfriend. I hope she's not like that other twit."

"You never even met her, but I can't argue with you. And Bella isn't exactly my girlfriend, yet. It's complicated."

"I'm sure I can keep up," my father prods, gently.

So I tell him everything. Well, within reason. I don't have to describe everything for him to get the picture. I must have poured out my heart because my dad comes to a conclusion that I hadn't considered.

"Sounds like you're in love."

Love.

I don't think I can Google that.

*

*

*

Later at my soccer game, I'm still pondering my dad's words. For the first half of the game I'm distracted and out of sorts.

"Get your head out of your ass, you lovesick fool! What the fuck, Edward? You've missed five shots," Emmett yells at me as I make another mistake at the end of the half.

There was that word again. _Was_ I in love with Bella?

"I'm sorry, Emmett. I can't think or focus. You really think it's love?"

"Do you care that two chicks have been eyefucking you the whole game? No, right? No girl exists but her? You can't sleep - you think about her all of the time - that's love," he says in a softer tone that seems. . .wistful.

"That's. . . I can't. . . imagine . . ." I stutter.

"Well you better imagine the _goal_ is a hot girl with long brown hair and nips and the _ball_ is your cock and get it in there. I'm not fucking losing to those douchebag drama majors. I'll never live that shit down." So much for the sensitive side of Emmett.

He grumbles something that sounds like, "Fucking genius is oblivious," as he stalks away.

No one has ever questioned my mental ability, but as usual Emmett is correct. Tactless, but accurate. He is quite a motivational speaker as I come to my senses and score two goals in the second half to lead us to victory.

Emmett convinces me to go with him to the pub to celebrate our victory. I usually don't imbibe, but since Bella, the stick has dislodged from my backside. A few scotches, yes - it's still my favorite drink, and I'm feeling good. It's a very friendly place as many women come to our table to say 'hi' and introduce themselves. Emmett thinks this is hilarious for some reason.

Then I get a text message.

* * *

**BPOV**

I hear a knock at my door before Rose opens at peeks her head around.

"Just making sure you're decent," she says with a wicked grin. "I wouldn't want to interrupt any more activities."

"Hey Rose?" I say sweetly.

"What?"

"Maybe you should bite me."

She laughs and steps into the room as I am changing into a pair of jeans.

"I don't know, Bella," she says. "Maybe if someone was actually biting you...you wouldn't need to be using aquatic-stimulation to get off."

I feel the overwhelming need to flip her off, but I choose to take the high road and use my wit put her in her place.

"I'm sorry, Rose," I say, smiling. "I didn't realize that you were getting off _so_ much more than me these days."

Rose does not feel the need to take the high road and flips me off immediately. I laugh at her and say, "That's nice, Rose…classy."

"Please," she says. "Don't pretend that you're above flipping the bird."

I giggle (because she's right) and say, "I _am_ above that. You're basically telling me to go fuck myself."

"Well," she says as she walks past me. "Fucking yourself is what started this whole conversation."

"I'm bored, Bella," she states dramatically, as she plops down on my bed. "Let's do something."

I look down at my outfit. I mean, I'm no super-model, but I think that I look cute enough for her to assume that I have plans.

"I am doing something tonight," I tell her. "I'm meeting a new friend for happy hour."

"Oh?" she says, arching her eyebrow. "Anyone I know?"

"Just a girl I met in yoga," I explain. "She's nice...you'd like her, I think. You should come, too!"

"Really?" she asks. "You don't mind?"

Before I could answer her, she was off the bed and heading to her room to change.

_Yeah…this was going to be fun._

* * *

When we arrive at the bar, I immediately notice Alice standing near the front. She immediately notices Rosalie.

"Bella!" she exclaims before looking back at Rose. "I'm so happy that you agreed to join me, though I'm not sure a bodyguard was necessary."

I giggle as she steps back and I make introductions. Rosalie steps forward and eyes Alice cautiously. After a moment of sizing her up, she says, "I think I like the little pixie, Bella."

We get a table in the corner of the bar and order our drinks. I have a Jack and Coke because it reminds me of Edward, while Alice and Rose order martinis. We talk easily about ourselves and I find that Alice seems to be a really genuine and sweet person. Even Rose likes her…and she never likes other women. In fact, I think that I am Rose's only female friend. When the second round of drinks arrives, Alice looks at me with a serious expression.

"Bella," she says. "There was a reason that I invited you out tonight. I haven't been completely honest with you and I need to tell you something."

I am instantly concerned at her words. What could she have been dishonest about? Rose interjects before I have a chance to question her.

"Listen, Alice," she says. "You seem like a sweet girl, but I have to tell you…Bella doesn't swing that way. She's not going to be the lipstick to your lesbian. I know she comes off as all free-spirited and shit with her fucking Lucky jeans and yoga, but really…she's _completely_ into some med-student across the country…and she's _totally_ e-fucking him!"

"Rose!" I yell, as I slap her arm. "Do you have to be so disgusting? And I am _not_ e-fucking him!"

"I'm sorry," she replies dryly. "e-making love."

It is the air-quotations that she uses that really piss me off.

I look across to Alice to apologize and she is biting back laughter. She isn't successful and soon it overflows and she is full-on laughing…hysterically. I look over at Rose and she seems to be as confused as me. We both look back to Alice and she is trying to stifle her fit of laughter.

"Bella," she says through the giggling. "You're a very pretty girl, but I don't – I'm not…interested in you like that."

"Oh, thank god," I say…more to myself than anyone else.

"Besides," she adds. "I don't think – _my brother_ – would be very happy with me if I was."

"Because your brother hates lesbians?" Rosalie asks sincerely, and I giggle.

_And then it dawns on me._

_Fuck me._

I am about to go into full-blown panic mode when Alice starts talking a mile a minute.

"Bella, please, don't freak out. He _is_ my brother and I _should_ have told you…but when you started talking to me about him and I realized _who_ you were talking about…I knew that you would be embarrassed that you had shared…_so much _with me. But I want you to know…I meant what I said. I think that you are perfect for him. You seem to get him in a way that no one ever has. I could just tell by the way you were talking about him."

She hasn't even taken a breath at this point, but still, she continues speaking.

"I wasn't trying to mislead you…I swear. That's why I emailed you. I wanted to set things straight right away. I didn't want what I did to cause problems for him…for you…for the two of you. He really likes you, Bella…a lot. I've never heard him talk about anyone like this before…ever. And now that I've met you…I know why."

We sit there in silence as I stare at her, my mouth hanging open. She doesn't speak again and I can think of nothing to say. The silence is finally broken when Rose yells out to the server.

"Excuse me! We are gonna need some more drinks over here and three shots."

An hour, two more drinks and two shots later…the air is clear. I am relaxed (and by relaxed, I mean tipsy) and am no longer upset with Alice. I think it has something to do with the fact that she has done more than her share of '_sharing_' about Edward. Everything she has told me only makes me adore him more. Like the fact that he doesn't watch TV, but loves old movies. When he was a child he carried a security blanket around like Linus from the Peanuts…and because he was so much younger than the kinds in his class, he didn't have any friends, but he had an imaginary play-mate named Hippocrates.

_I am mad about him._

"He really told you that he wanted to sit with you under a tree while you read to him?" Alice asks.

"Yes," I sigh dreamily. "And it only irritated me a little that he called the Bronte Sisters entertaining."

"Last night," I slur slightly. "We g-chatted."

"And how was that, DizzyBella?" Rosalie asks and then snorts.

"Well…it was kind of…hot," I say looking at Rose and my new friend, Alice. Who just happens to be the sister of the man I want to do all kinds of sweet and dirty things with. "Until he had to go."

"Why did he have to go?" Alice asks.

"I don't know…something about a shower."

Rose and Alice share a look and smile between them. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wonder what it's about, but all I can think of is Edward. I wonder what he's doing. It's eight-thirty here. So, it's only eleven-thirty there. I really want to say something to him…let him know how much I'm thinking about him…fantasizing about him.

_All of a sudden…inspiration strikes._

_It is brilliant._

_I am brilliant._

"Alice?" I ask.

"Yes?"

"Can I borrow your phone?"

She grins at me…and I think she understands what I want to do.

"I don't know, Bella," she says, still smiling. "Are you sure you want to do whatever it is you're thinking about?"

"Yes...I'm sure."

It takes me three minutes to type out a text message on her phone.

Stupid Blackberry and its tiny, fucking buttons.

I finally type out the message I want to send…and I send it.

**"I got so fucking wet when I was chatting with you last night. And you know what, Edward? I'm a little wet right now just thinking about you."**

"_**Alice???!!!"**_

**End Notes:**

Reviewers get love in their box from Edward.

We apologize if you were one of the reviewers that didn't last week. The response has been so wonderful and overwhelming; we are trying to keep up. We are making it our personal mission to catch up this weekend.

We will be doing an outtake of LiMB for FGB Eclipse. If you are interested in being a part of Team Forthwithward, please contact AllyinPerth on Twitter. She is the team captain.

Next week is going to be hectic and intense for both of us. We will not be able to update next week, but we will be back on the following Friday as scheduled.

Thank you all so much for reading…we seriously love and appreciate you all!


	10. Re: Super Freak and Sexy Geek

**Marvar:** So, I'm quite pleased that my fic-whoring ways did not ruin my higher education. (Just made me look like a slacker.)

**cosmogirl7481:** I'm so proud of you! Congratulations on your Masters! Now you're a highly-educated fic-whore...like me!

**Marvar:** Yes, I feel so educated as I'm typing in my iPhone at thr gas station at six am.

**cosmogirl7481:** Educated and a multi-tasker! You're even hotter to me now.

**Marvar:** I wanted to be your equal so we wouldn't have any marital problems.

**cosmogirl7481:** The only marital problems we have stem from the amount of emo fic that I read. It makes me moody.

**Marvar:** That's why I avoid emo and read fluff. I balance your angst. We are MFEO.

**cosmogirl7481:** We sure the fuck are.

**Chapter 9**

**Re: Super Freak and Sexy Geek**

**EMPOV **

Sweet fuck. What a bunch of scandalous hood-rats in this bar. I'm getting crabs just from the suggestive looks. I'm pretty sure Edward would douse himself in penicillin if he wasn't so oblivious to the attention. I turn to him - maybe said skanks will think we're a couple and stop staring.

"So Ed, have you told Nips about the move, yet?" I ask.

Edward gives me a dirty look because I call her that. I already know how he'll react, but I like to push his buttons. He's still a little uptight. He used to be worse - one time he wrote me a strongly-worded letter protesting my use of slang when I texted him. I laughed and told him to STFU. Of course he didn't get it.

"Emmett, you know that I protest the use of that nickname. I have made it clear and you have a high mental ability, so I conclude that you are trying to coerce me into an argument," Edward scowls at me as he sips his scotch. Ha! I notice his new favorite drink. It must remind him of her. I should ask him if they did anything freaky with it.

Despite the persistent geekiness (above comments are evidence to that statement), Edward seems a little more relaxed. Two months ago he wouldn't have even gone to the bar with me. Now he can walk in and sit down without pulling out his pocket pack of anti-bacterial wipes. (That used to be embarrassing.)

When I met Edward five years ago, I thought he was one of those cyborgs from Terminator (that movie kicks ass) – programmed with no sense of humor and a brilliant mind. Now I _know_ he has no sense of humor, but he's not a robot. He's just really loyal and caring and extremely fucking focused. What other 24 year old cares more about studying and his family than getting laid? Yeah, that's what I thought. And Edward could get laid plenty, especially with me as a wingman. He just doesn't take advantage of his attributes. That's why we get along so well. Other dudes can't accept my brains and my hotness – whereas Edward doesn't give a shit. He likes me for me. OK, that sounded a little brokeback, but I don't care.

That Bella chick is doing him some good. I know the cyber-sex must be hot because I'm pretty sure I've caught him after giving Little Eddie some action. Whatever turns him on. And I'm positive Bella knows Little Eddie's switch.

But I need real live girl action.

And unlike Edward, I don't have a girl.

Well, I could get one - or four. Just not the right one. Damn. I wish that Rose was the one. Until she treated me like a piece of man meat, I was sure that we would have had something beyond that one night. I guess it was karma biting me in the ass. How many girls had I treated like that? Yeah, too many. But not anymore. My man-whore days are over.

I still fantasize about Rose; she is spectacular looking regardless of her dumb-blonde tendencies. She is actually like a female version of the old me – but I just want someone with brains and a strong personality. But damn, those long legs, kneeling down, full lips on -

"Alice!" Edward shouts, interrupting my daydream. He is looking at his phone with a puzzled expression.

"What's Shorty texting you that's getting you all excited?" I ask and Edward looks horrified as he texts something back to whom I assume is his little sister.

"I am not excited!" he growls at me.

"Chill, Dr. Love. You're the one yelling shit in the bar. Let me see that phone." I grab it from his hands and read the text. "What the fuck do we have here? 'I get so fucking wet when I. . .' - oh fuck . . ." Edward groans and looks panicked. Um, yeah. That's wrong in all sorts of ways. I look at what he typed back. Please don't let it gross me out.

"**Alice, are you high? What did the drugs look like? Stay there, I'll call 911**."

Another text came in as I was reading. I laughed as I read it.

"Dude. Everything's cool. No need to bleach your eyes. It's Bella texting you on Alice's phone. It's not some freaky _Flowers in the Attic _bullshit."

"Wait. It's Bella?" And Edward looks like someone gave him a new fucking medical textbook.

I want that. No, not the textbook. That look. I know what it means. I just haven't experienced it.

"Emmett, what is _Flowers in the Attic_? It sounds like where my mom buys crafts. And give me my phone."

"Relax, Ed. Don't give yourself a shit attack." I send a quick message before I give it back.

"_**You little freak. Keep up the good work. Edward is worth it. From Emmett**_."

"There is no such thing as a "shit attack," he grumbles. God he's such a nerd. "Emmett! What did you write?" he asks as he grabs the phone from my hands. His face relaxes as he reads. He actually gets a little pink in the cheeks. I watch him as his whole face changes as he types and reads. Motherfucker is sexting as I sit here like a loser.

Can you believe this shit?

**

* * *

**

**RPOV**

Fuck, yes! I love drunk Bella!

Technically, I love Bella all the time, but when Bella is drinking, she's a fucking riot. Except for that one time our freshman year.

We were drinking and she convinced me to do shots of Tequila Rose, "because it was like my name." Yeah, really great idea. I don't know who the fuck drinks that shit, but when I took the shot and the milky-pink substance came out of my nose, I assure you, it wasn't funny. My nasal passages were on fire and it hurt so badly, I thought that she was going to have to take me to the emergency room.

She refused to take me, however. She told me that we were going to get in trouble for underage drinking. (Because Bella's all kinds of straight-laced and shit.) Then she said that all they were going to do was flush my sinuses with saline solution, and then she added that she could do that for free. She also had the balls to tell me that at least she hadn't suggested Wild Turkey because I was "wild." This made me laugh and I forgot all about the line of fire in my nose, and honestly, we've been best friends ever since.

See, here's the thing. I don't like other women. No, forget that. Usually, other women don't like me. I mean, I get it. Really, I do. Women, for the most part, are jealous and catty bitches. And I'm not trying to be conceited, but I know what I look like. I'm fucking hot. And most women treat me like I walk around with a portable pole, in clear, plastic stripper shoes, but Bella never has. She has always just been herself and she has always seen past the outside (which is fabulous, I'm not gonna lie) and cared about who I am as a person.

So, I guess you would call her my best friend...only friend, whatever. Regardless, right now, my best friend is pretty fucking wasted.

This whole thing with Alice, who is apparently Edward's sister, could have been a real cluster-fuck. I mean, really. How is it possible that the little pixie she met in yoga just happens to be the sister of the guy she fucked on spring break? Come the fuck on! That shit doesn't happen! Yet, here Bella sits, drinking it up with her. It was touch and go for a moment there, but I'll be damned if Alice wasn't able to talk her way out of it. I've never heard anyone talk as much and as fast as she did in those few short moments. She keeps saying that Bella is perfect for him and that no one has ever understood her brother like this. And while I may not completely understand this Edward guy, I think I have a pretty good grasp on who he is.

He seems upstanding enough with his emails and his ability to plaster a permanent grin on my friend's face. He's in medical school, which means he must not be a complete and total moron like the last guy Bella dated. With all that being said though, he appears to have shitty taste in friends. Douchebag friends that are fuckhot and I can't stop thinking about.

Emmett.

Yeah, I talked to him that night after Bella ditched me at the bar to go play 'Spin the Stethoscope' with Dr. Eddie. I briefly wonder if it will piss him off if I call him that and I secretly hope it does. But Emmett? Who the fuck does he think he is? As a rule, men don't turn me down. Especially men like that. He was all broad shoulders and dimpled smiles and big hands with long, thick fingers that I couldn't stop staring at as he held his glass of scotch. Long, thick fingers bode well for other appendages having a little extra length and girth. And not for nothing, but a girl could use a little extra length…and girth. I have a feeling that any other appendage on his smoking-hot body, would be above average in the length department. In other words, he was right up my alley.

So, I approached him at the bar. I was using all my best moves, too. My hair was working and my tits, well…my tits are always working, if you know what I mean. I didn't make them, but they sure as fuck look like I paid someone to. Again, I'm not being conceited; it's just the truth. I was all breathy voice and batting lashes and I could tell that he was into me and then out of nowhere…

I am snapped back into reality from my thoughts of Emmett when I realize that Bella has what I can only assume in Alice's pink Blackberry. Bella has a Blackberry, but she would never have the color pink. Her phone is black. Like a nun or a construction worker. "Pink is too girlie," she always says. I then have to remind her that she has boobs…and nice ones, too. Not as nice as mine, but I'd totally feel her up in some alternate universe where we were sorority sisters and wanted to "experiment." Fuck, I'd probably feel her up now and I might have to resort to that if I don't get laid soon. The problem is that since I met Emmett, no other man has held my interest. Why the fuck didn't he want me?

I watch as she plays with the buttons on the Blackberry and her face is all concentrated and she's biting her bottom lip. I realize that she is sending a text message. Of course, I realize it a little too fucking late, because let's face it; I'm a little drunk myself because I have been matching these bitches shot for fucking shot. Then, Bella looks up and she's all flushed and grinning like a leaky whore and I realize that she's just texted Edward. _From Alice's phone._ I don't know what she's said, but from the look on her face, I can tell it wasn't something "sisterly."

"What did you say?" I ask.

Before she has a chance to tell me the phone pings and she receives a text message.

"Eww…no!" she cries out and it's really loud and people are staring at the table next to us, but I don't really give a fuck.

"What's wrong?" Alice asks.

"Edward thinks I'm you!"

These two are really tripping me out and I am laughing hysterically because Alice doesn't seem to understand and Bella is clearly mortified by what she said in the text message. I really need to see what the fuck DizzyBella has said. I grab the phone from her hand and I scroll back to see what she's typed and as soon as I read the words, **"I got so fucking wet when I was chatting with you last night…"** I am nearly doubled over in laughter. Bella snatches the phone from my hand and looks at me all humiliated and questioning.

"You dumbass," I say in amusement. "Why in the fuck would you text _that_ to him from his _sister's_ phone? He will never be able to get a boner again!"

She immediately texts another response, telling him that it was her and not his sister.

Alice is trying not to laugh, but the absurdity of the moment it too much for her to take and she joins me in the hilarity.

"Oh, my god," Bella moans. "Emmett is there! _He just texted me!_"

"What?" I ask, suddenly at attention at just the mention of his name.

Bella doesn't respond, but instead continues to type and laugh as she blushes. She's so fucking cute and even though this has been a priceless moment that I will _never_, for one minute, allow her to live down…I am really happy for her. And maybe for the first time in my life, I am jealous of another woman.

I ponder that for a moment and then I turn to Alice.

"So," I say directly. "Tell me about Edward's friend, Emmett. What's his fucking deal?"

* * *

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Plans for the Future

To my Bella,

Well, we are back to our original mode of conversation. I have to admit that I am thrilled to converse with you in any type of medium, but I very much enjoy this way of interaction. I like having the ability to think and edit as I write to you. I omitted a comma in our g-chat and I'm having nightmares about it. (As a Lit major, I'm sure you can appreciate my mortification.)

So I have some news that I hope that will please you. I am graduating soon and will begin my residency in July. I was accepted at the Stanford University Hospital. I want you to know that I applied months ago to this program. Actually, my whole family is moving because my father will be head of the medical school there.

Bella, I'll be near you. I didn't plan it this way, but how fortuitous nonetheless. It's amazing that things worked out this way; it almost makes me believe in fate and other non-scientific ideas. Almost - I still have no empirical evidence.

Please tell me that you want me near you, because I desperately want to be with you. (I hope that you don't think that's too forward, but judging from your recent text messages, I would think not.)

Can we chat about this?

Yours,

Edward

* * *

**dizzybella69: **Hey

**LatinLover: **Hello.

**dizzybella69: **How are you?

**LatinLover: **I'm somewhat embarrassed about our recent exchange.

**dizzybella69: **I think that I am the one that should be embarrassed.

**dizzybella69: **You must think that I am some crazy drunk girl. I promise, I'm not Lindsay Lohan!

**LatinLover: **The little red-haired girl from "The Parent Trap?" What's wrong with that? She seemed very wholesome in the film. I watched it while flying back from France. I think you are lovely. But you may want to evaluate your alcohol intake. If you are having bad reactions, you may have some sort of allergic reaction.

I can send you some information.

**dizzybella69: **I think that I just overdid it, but in my defense, I had just found out that Alice was your sister. That was...umm...kind of shocking. I was more than a little embarrassed.

**LatinLover: **Imagine my feelings when I saw that text. Shock is putting it mildly. Emmett said it was almost Flowers in the Attic. I Googled it and was disturbed by the erotic content.

**dizzybella69: **Speaking of erotic content, would you be willing to share with me what you think about my first text to you last night? Now that you know it was me and not…your sister.

**LatinLover: **Um, I'm thrilled that I can produce such a strong physical response from you. I actually grinned in the bar. And Bella, I would share everything with you.

**dizzybella69: **See? When you say things like that...it makes me have reactions like the one I texted you about. You make me feel so...so special.

**LatinLover: **You are special. It's my job to make you feel that way. Well, if you let it be my job. It's your choice, of course. I am not sexist or anything.

**dizzybella69: **I don't think you're sexist, but I don't want to be considered a job. It sounds like a responsibility. I want to be something enjoyable...pleasurable. That's what you are to me.

**LatinLover: **I like work. I enjoy responsibility. It is pleasurable to me if you are involved.

**dizzybella69: **I can see that about you. You are so much more serious than anyone I've ever met. I like that about you. It's so different from anyone else that I know. How am I pleasurable, Edward?

**LatinLover: **I'm sorry. I sound boring, right? I have always been serious, even when I was little. That's probably why I don't have many friends. I hope that doesn't discourage you from talking to me.

The ways you are pleasurable:

Your honesty, your intelligence, your soft skin, your scent, your acceptance of me.

**dizzybella69: **I would never call you boring...or even think it. You make me laugh on a daily basis and you speak to me in sexy languages. You increase my heart rate so much, I think it's causing me to lose weight. And I'm already really small. (giggles)

**LatinLover: **Just make sure your heart rate doesn't go past a certain level. I am going to email you a table so you can monitor yourself. Oh, and please don't lose any weight. You are perfect the way you are. (And I'm sure you fall within the AMA guidelines for appropriate BMI.)

**dizzybella69: **Edward, I was only joking about the weight-loss thing. But you could send me a table if it makes you feel better. You just make me giddy and girlie and you make me feel like I'm a teenager again. This is all really new to me. I like it...you're fun. I really think you're wonderful.

**LatinLover: **I am fun? No one has ever said that to me. Emmett says I am the antidote for fun.

**dizzybella69: **Well, I don't know about that, Edward. He sure spends a lot of time with you to think that you're no fun. Besides…I know first-hand just how much fun you can be.

**LatinLover: **Bella, I'm sure you can understand why I would not share THAT kind of fun with Emmett. And I will use my hands first when I see you next. (and probably my mouth)

**dizzybella69: **Oh, Edward. That was…hot. I think I like chatting with you and getting an immediate response. I want you to use your hands first? (and DEFINITELY your mouth?)

So, you're really coming to Stanford this summer?

**LatinLover: **Yes. In late June. How do you feel about that?

**dizzybella69: **If I could hug you right now, I would! That is wonderful news, Edward! I have some good news for you, too.

**LatinLover: **What is it?

**dizzybella69: **Rose and I have decided to stay in Berkeley for the summer. We have to keep the apartment anyway, so I'm only going to visit my parents for a week in Phoenix.

**LatinLover: **Bella, that's the best news. If I could hug you, I would. I still remember holding you and I need to do that again soon.

**dizzybella69: **So, will you come and visit me? I really hope you will. And Edward, I remember you holding me, as well. Soon can't get here fast enough.

**LatinLover: **I will visit you every minute I have away from the hospital. (I mean that literally.)

**dizzybella69: **Me, too! I'll visit you, too. I mean if your schedule permits it, of course.

**LatinLover: **You can't see me, but I'm grinning.

**dizzybella69: **And I'm blushing…everywhere.

**LatinLover: **Ahh. Beautiful. You're making me miss you more, if that's possible.

**dizzybella69: **I hope it's possible. I miss you like crazy, Edward. I think about you all the time.

Also, I adore your sister.

**LatinLover: **Alice. She's quite a force of nature isn't she? She received all the personality traits I didn't.

**dizzybella69: **I think I like your personality traits more. I base this on the fact that I want to kiss you. Alice, not so much.

**LatinLover: **I want to kiss you too, Bella. I think about it all the time. Almost to the point of distraction.

**dizzybella69: **I'm pressing my fingers to my lips and I'm pretending they're your mouth. It's not as soft, but nothing really is. Is it June yet?

**LatinLover: **Wow. That made me aroused. I wish it really was me. Soon, love.

Did you know that you'll be less than 31 miles from me?

**dizzybella69: **I love that I know that you used Google maps to figure that out.

Edward, you make me smile.

**LatinLover: **Until I can touch you, Bella, I need to hear you.

Will you let me call you?

**

* * *

**

**End Notes:**

**Reviewers get Edward in their box. (We are really trying.)**

**Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews. Sorry we didn't get to everyone this week, but we put our effort into finishing the chapter. (Usually if you ask, Edward will PM you.)**

**If you would like to bid for some Love in Your Box, contact AllyinPerth on twitter. She's captain of Team LiMB for Fandom Gives Back.**

**Also I, Marvar, am the Team Darcyward captain for Retail Therapy by Cosmogirl7481. Contact me on Twitter (marvar29) or email forthwithward (at) gmail (dot) com to support FGBEclipse. Cosmo promises some hot lemon action.**

**Talk to us on Twitter: cosmogirl7481 and marvar29**

**See you next Friday!**


	11. Re: Conversations and Sexual Relations

**A/N**

**Marvar: Longest Chapter of LiMB ever.**

**Cosmogirl7481: I know. So, let's just spare everyone the banter this week.**

**Please. Read. Enjoy. (Hopefully)**

**Chapter 10**

**Re: Phone Conversations and Sexual Relations**

**BPOV**

Holy shit.

Edward wants to call me.

I would be lying if I said that I didn't want him to call. I've done nothing but want to hear his voice since I got the first email. Longer than that really. I've wanted to hear his voice since I was with him in Miami. Just to be able to hear him will be fucking brilliant. Christ. I have a dirty mouth…even in my own mind. I wonder briefly if that bothers him. He is always so…just _so_ perfect. _And dreamy…and smart …and wonderful…and Edward._ I sigh as I realize that just thinking about him has calmed my nerves and the trembling hands that are clutching my Blackberry, waiting for him to call, have relaxed somewhat.

Edward is going to call me.

Edward Masen, man of my dreams (in the literal and figurative sense), is going to call me.

I think about what he said in the chat and I blush. He told me that he needed to hear my voice until he could touch me. And now I'm thinking about him touching me…and all the ways I want him to touch me. I hope that he wants to touch me the same way. Great. Now I'm blushing and panting…and probably wet.

Definitely wet.

Fuck.

Control yourself, Bella.

He's probably going to be really nervous and shy and sweet…and just him.

And this is definitely not helping the wet panties situation.

I feel the phone vibrate in my hand as the song "Smack That" plays. I've gotten a few strange looks from people whenever they've heard my new ringtone, but I know why I've chosen it. It was the song that was playing at the bar on South Beach when I tripped into Edward and he spilled his scotch on me…the best moment of my life. Well, maybe not the best. It certainly wasn't better than when he felt me up…or spoke in Italian…or when he sucked my breast…

Dammit, I need to answer the phone!

"Hello," I say, my voice trembling slightly.

"Hello, Bella?" he says…and his voice is butter. Or maybe is voice is heat and I am butter, because at the sound of it, I melt. "This is Edward."

"I figured," I tell him, giggling nervously, stupidly. "I wasn't expecting anyone else to call...and the different area code gave you away."

"I um," he starts again. "I wanted to talk to you."

There is nothing but sincerity in his voice and even though I'm still anxious, I relax a little at his words and the fact that I know he means them. Also, Edward never says anything he doesn't mean.

"I wanted to talk to you, too," I say quietly. "How are you?"

"Quite well, thank you."

"That's good...you sound well...I mean...what I mean is," Fuck. I stop talking because I am rambling like an idiot and tripping over my words. How is it possible that even over the phone he can sound this good? All soft and smooth and deep. His voice is like nothing I've ever heard before…except for that one night. "It's really good to hear your voice. It's just like I remembered."

"You remembered my voice?" he asks.

_Yeah, like I could forget your voice. _

"That's…uh…pleasing," he continues. "I mean, I remembered yours…how could I forget?"

My heart swells at his words. He remembers my voice and suddenly, confirmation of this coming from his beautiful voice makes me do internal cartwheels. I mean, I would have to do them internally because I was never good at anything gymnastic. Crap. He's still talking.

"But I never thought…"

"You never thought what? That I would remember your voice?" This is surprising to me and I giggle at its ridiculousness. I remember everything about him. Everything. "Your voice was...umm...well, it was kind of perfect. Fuck. Never mind. Fuck, I didn't mean to say fuck. Sorry."

Shut up, Bella!

I am rambling like an idiot with verbal diarrhea and I hope that he isn't regretting wanting to talk to me.

"Your laugh is enchanting," he says sweetly. "That's something you can't recreate through email."

I immediately want to French him because he has this way of making me feel that he really _does _like me and that he doesn't seem to mind the fact that I speak too much and say too much.

"Enchanting...I like that. Enchanting," I say. And I do like it…the way it sounds. I like that he is saying it about me. It conjures images of Disney inspired forests with woodland creatures and me dressed as a princess and Edward is the prince. Officially, I am against the idea of the woman as a princess who needs to be saved by a prince because it's not very progressive. And it is certainly not feminist thinking, but there is something about _him_ that has me singing "Someday My Prince Will Come". "Do you really think so?"

"I'm running out of adjectives to describe how I feel about you. My vocabulary is inadequate. And I don't usually say that."

He chuckles and I laugh along with him.

"I would imagine not," I agree. "Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Are you nervous? Because I am," I confess. "I mean...not in a bad way, of course...just nervous to be talking to you again."

It feels good just to say it out loud and be honest about it. I want to always be honest with him.

"Yes. You could tell?" He pauses like he's thinking about what he should say. I wonder if I've made him even more nervous than he was already. "Of course. You are very perceptive. I really only talk to my family on the phone."

I smile to myself because he is so open and honest with me. Most guys would never admit something like that, but when he does, it just makes him so much more endearing to me.

"Well...I can say that I talk to your family on the phone now, too. One of them anyway. Alice is really nice."

"Right. Alice and um…the phone. How could I forget that?"

I giggle nervously as I remember scenes from the night in the bar with Alice…and her phone.

"Umm...yeah. I'm still really mortified about that...I umm...I can't believe I did that," I stammer and I blush and I wish that we weren't talking about my mortifying and embarrassing behavior. I've sworn off alcohol for the twentieth time in my life. And I think I mean it this time…well, mostly.

I try to change the subject.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask, but I don't really wait for him to respond. "Why is your last name different from Alice? I mean...you don't have to tell me...I was just wondering."

I hear him release a deep breath and I wonder if I've asked something I shouldn't have, but before I can worry about it too long he is speaking to me about it with complete and total ease.

"Well, we have different dads. My mom married her dad when I was very young. He's my dad, too, only not biologically."

"How young were you?" I ask.

"Two and a half."

"Why didn't you take his last name, then?" I ask without thinking. "I'm sorry. Forget I asked that. That is none of my concern."

"Um, I just . . . well, my mom asked me when I was 5, you know, old enough to make an educated decision, and I only had that part of my father left. My dad didn't mind, so…I just kept Masen."

I envision Edward as a five year old child - all serious and performing science experiments and playing with Hippocrates. I even think about his bronze hair and I wonder if it has always been as chaotic as it is now.

"I like Masen...and yes, I can see where you would have been able to make an educated decision at five," I tell him. "The only decision I was making at five was deciding if I wanted crust on my peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

I giggle at the thought of how different we must have been as children…really, how different we are from each other now. And it strikes me that as different as we are, he is so perfect for me in so many ways. I hope that I am the same thing to him…and I think that I am. That thought makes me blissful.

"Peanut butter and jelly is . . . You eat that?"

"Well...not now," I say. "No...that's a lie. I love peanut butter and jelly. Why?"

"Please," he says seriously. "Let me take you to eat something else."

I sigh at the thought of him wanting to take care of me, but I _really_ like peanut butter and jelly.

"But it's really good," I contend. "With a glass of cold soy milk. It's yummy...and sticky...and sweet…"

My voice has become low and breathy as I think about the descriptive words I've just used and how…_sexual_ they sound."

_I wonder if he noticed._

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

**EPOV**

I nearly lose composure when she starts talking like that - sighing and breathing hard. She can't be aware of what she does to me. And of course I don't mention it, lest she think I'm some sort of sex fiend. I ask her, "Are you lactose-intolerant? Do have any other food allergies I should be aware of?" I don't mention her seductive words. I'm sure she doesn't mean "sticky" like I do.

"No...why?" she replies, questioning me.

"Well, you said you would drink soy milk. I assumed that you were unable to drink regular milk," I state, matter-of-factly.

"No, I just love soy milk. It would seem to me that as a doctor...you could appreciate the health benefits. I am allergic to shellfish, but I've never had it except the one time. Oh...and I'm allergic to bee stings. But I guess that's not a food allergy. Fuck, okay...I'm shutting up now," she rambles in that adorable way she does; only I am familiar with the print version. I smile because I get to hear her voice. Funny how I know her personality so well, though we have never been out on a date. We have a courtship going in the old-fashioned sense, just with updated technology.

I am drawn back to the conversation by a revelation in her ramblings. "Bee stings? OK, I'll make sure I carry an epi-pen. Is your epi-pen up to date?"

"I don't have an epi-pen. Umm...needles really scare me. I don't like to be poked with things," she protests.

"That's not very prudent. I wouldn't want to poke you, Bella. But I would. And if I had to stick you, I promise it would only hurt for a little bit. It wouldn't be pleasant for you go into anaphylactic shock," I lecture her, starting to sound a little like her actual doctor and not her well, boyfriend, or whatever it is that I am.

"Can't I just avoid bees? she asks in her innocent, sweet voice, which makes me feel tingly. Note to self, research a more appropriate descriptor than "tingly."

"You can never be too careful. I like to be prepared. What would happen if you get stung?" I query.

"Well, the only time I ever got stung I was 16 and I was at a pool party. I sat down on a bench and a bee stung the back of my thigh...umm...you know...because I was in a bathing suit. Anyway...I had to go to the ER because my leg swelled and I had a difficult time breathing. But they didn't give me a shot. Really, Edward, needles scare me." She sounds panicky and I conclude that her heartbeat has increased (but surely within normal range). I also am assaulted with the image of Bella in a bikini (obviously not a 16 year old Bella, because that would be wrong).

"Bella, love, calm down. I'm not going to stick you with a needle. Well, unless I have to," I try to calm her when I hear her rapid breathing. "I guess I really need to work on my doctor/patient interactions, because I haven't even touched you and you are already excited." Her breathing seems to stop and I think she may need a full physical to check her irregular breathing.

"Umm...I would be more excited if you...if you touched me..."

My mouth drops open because this conversation is completely different than what I thought it was. I thought I was giving medical advice and she is starting to flirt with me. "Um, I didn't mean. . . you . . .want me to, um. . .touch you?

"Yes...I definitely want you to touch me. I mean you DO want to touch me...right? Oh, god...I mean...I thought...." She sounds embarrassed, and I don't want her to be self-conscious.

"Oh, Bella, of course I want to touch you. I mean I can't literally touch you, obviously, but I can pretend to like when I'm in the show- uh, never mind. I just didn't mean that kind of excited, but you thought that and I got embarrassed and well, aroused, and then. . oh fuck. I sound like an idiot. A foul-mouthed idiot." Now I'm rambling.

"I like your mouth...and if I remember correctly...it was never foul. Maybe a little dirty...but I like that. She pauses before asking, "You really got aroused?"

"Oh, god. I said that, didn't I?" It's my turn to be shy.

"Yes...you did. Was it the truth?" Her confidence is back and she's asking _those_ questions again. I don't know how long I can last without actually answering her.

"You don't mind that I'm um, dirty?"

"No...just like I didn't mind when you emailed me wet. You didn't answer my question, Edward. Were you? Aroused?"

"Yes," I admit.

"Mmm....and what about now? Because...well...because I am."

"Please don't be disgusted. I really can control myself. I'm not a sex fiend. It's just . . .wait, what?"

"I think you heard me, Dr. Masen," she sounds like she wants me to. . . do something. "And I don't think you're a sex fiend...I just think you're sexual."

"Really?" I ask because I can't believe someone thinks I'm sexual, let alone the object of my affections and desires.

"Mmmm...really... " Her breathing is so erratic I may ask her if she uses an inhaler.

"So, Doctor, huh? Technically I'm not a doctor, yet, not for fifteen days and 12 hours, but I like how you say it. But I'm pretty sure you could make anything sound um, sexy," I take a deep breath as I wait for her response.

"Edward?" Please flirt back.

"Yes?"

"No one has ever called me sexy before...well, except for Rosalie. But I don't think she counts." She laughs and my heart soars, metaphorically speaking.

"What? Why? Did you experiment? It's well, normal, but did you?"

"Experiment? With what?"

"With Rosalie. Don't be embarrassed. I read a recent article that concluded that it was becoming more common in college, especially amongst liberal arts majors."

"Neither of us are very good with science," she says with a hint of confusion. Then she exclaims, "Oh..god! You mean with Rosalie?"

"Yes. Obviously."

"No!" I realize that what I was talking about just dawned on her.

"Wait, the ONE time I _don't_ mean a scientific experiment, that's what you thought!" I can't help laughing and I somehow feel lighter, more carefree.

"You thought I experimented with Rosalie?" She giggles and it's more melodic than Mozart's finest work. "I mean...she has seen me naked...in the shower and stuff."

"You said she called you sexy, and I. . . well. . . huh? Naked?" Visuals flash through my mind. Bella topless on my lap, naked - under me. . .

"She calls me sexy so she can borrow my jeans...she doesn't want to get into them."

"Then why does she need them?"

"No...I mean...what I mean...fuck...you know...like get into my pants. It was a joke," she groans.

"Oh," I say, lamely.

"I'm sorry. I'm not funny." Great. My literal nature has hurt her feelings.

"No, I don't have much of a sense of humor. It's one of my shortcomings. I'm sure you are very funny," I try to assure her that I am lacking, not her.

"I guess that the moment has passed, huh?" she sounds a little frustrated.

"What do you mean? I don't know what's going on. She is constantly making my usually linear thoughts veer off course.

"Umm...I mean...umm...never mind."

"Bell-la, tell me," I coax.

"I like that, you know," she says in a breathy whisper.

"What?" The woman is confusing me. I'm actually starting to like the feeling of not knowing everything. We can discover things together.

"The way my name sounds coming from your voice. I say your name all the time...just to say it," she sighs out the last part of the sentence, and I'm in physical pain from missing her so much.

"Say it," I demand, my voice not betraying my emotions.

"Edward," she practically moans.

"I see what you mean," I sigh.

"I don't think I want anyone else to say it," she replies with a lilt to her voice. I wish I could see the expression on her face.

"Me either...just you. And everyone else can call you Miss Swan."

"Yeah...or DizzyBella," she giggles. "But I don't want anyone else calling you LatinLover either."

"Of course not. Um, I meant to ask if you have an equilibrium problem, or vertigo?"

"No...why?" she sounds confused.

"Your name, "Dizzy."

"I think that was Rose just being silly...I'm not dizzy. I'm actually quite coordinated," she giggles again.

"Oh, excellent." _Note to self: do not need to email that file to Bella._

"Except for when I'm tripping in bars into hot doctors."

"When did that - Oh yeah." I chuckle. "You mean me, right?"

"Yeah...you're the only hot doctor I know," she teases.

"No question about the 69?" she asks.

"Um, is that your favorite number?" She laughs again and I realize what that number signifies. I learned about _that _after an unfortunate incident where I thought I was going to watch a history DVD about the Gold Rush and instead saw the beginning to _The Miner and Clementine Sixty-nine_. Thank you Emmett and his poorly labeled porn collection. "Oh!" I exclaim. What a gaffe. "Wait, why do you have that number as your screen name?

"I told you Rose picked my chat name. SHE thought it was funny because I'm inexperienced. Edward, I haven't done that before. But I'm not opposed to trying it, are you?" she adds shyly. "New moves are something we can practice."

"You seemed like you um, moved well," I choke out. I may be the 'dizzy' one as a result of the lightning quick movement of blood to my groin.

"You remember how I moved, Edward?" Her voice is driving me mad.

"God, Bella. You have no idea. I have never before been so glad to have a photographic memory." I don't want to palm myself while speaking to her, so I politely say it's late and we both promise to email as soon as possible.

"Good night, Edward," she whispers. Yeah, that doesn't help the situation in my pants.

"Sweet dreams, Bella," I manage to rasp. "Mine will be of you."

When I hang up I can't help but wonder if she is even a tenth as obsessed as I am. Does she think about me constantly? Does she wonder what I'm doing during random times of the day? Sigh.

It was so necessary to talk to her. I think I needed to make sure my dream girl wasn't a figment of my imagination or a cyber fantasy. And her voice. I nearly lost my composure when she started making those little breathy noises. Now I have more sounds in my Bella file. Excellent because I mostly have sighs and moans stored there. Sad to say, but we didn't talk much during our Miami encounter. I think a transcript of my dialogue would consist of grunts and incoherent ramblings and a few "Oh god, Bellas."

I really can't take the erection that is stretching my boxers to their elastic limit. I must relieve myself. Again. Hopefully Emmett won't drop by unannounced, because I can't take any more 'little Eddie jokes.' Before Bella, I never had to take matters into my own hands. I didn't even care about sex. Now I'm constantly fantasizing about her.

I decide the shower is really the best place for my um, needs. I strip down quickly, removing my t-shirt and boxer briefs. God, I'm so hard just from the phone conversation. Hearing her again makes my memories much more vivid and I can't help but stroke myself as the hot water runs down my torso. I tilt my head back and think of that night. . .

**Miami, March 12, 2010**

Bella, my sex goddess, is topless with her nipples on glorious display. She is before me and her hot little hand is stroking me and squeezing and I may come from just a few pumps of her hand. That would be mortifying, but entirely possible. I wish I had "unloaded my weapon" before leaving the hotel like Emmett suggested, but I never thought I would be doing this. Months without an orgasm does not bode well for my control. And it really doesn't help that I have the most beautiful girl I've ever seen . . . lowering her mouth to, "Oh, my…Bella?" I moan as she runs her tongue across the tip of my cock and kisses it. "What are…shit…oh, your mouth." I'm still staring at her full lips - I can't take it. I'm going to come before I even get her pants off. "Oh…god…please, don't…I'm going to…stop…" I lean back and wildly try to completely remove my pants. I'm awkward, but that's a foregone conclusion. I'm just trying not to totally ruin everything.

I pull her to me, kissing her wildly. I am out of control with lust as I unbutton her jeans. I gaze at her face as I murmur, "You are so beautiful. We don't have to do this and I can stop if you want me to." But fuck, I don't want to stop. She shakes her head (thank you, higher power or whatever – I don't have time or the inclination to ponder) and I continue, but I fumble with her zipper. Of course I can't pull it down and need her help. But even she has trouble removing her pants. I am relieved as I am not a complete loser, but impatient as I really want to see her naked.

She lays herself on the bed and together we pull off the accursed pants after a slight struggle. She says something about being wet and scotch but it doesn't compute because I am in awe at the sight of her bare and glistening vagina. Ugh. That sounds like I'm going to do an exam. Gross, Edward, but it helps lessen my need to come instantly. Call it a pussy, you pussy. And maybe touch it instead of staring at it like it's a fucking Georgia O'Keefe painting. I run my finger between her slick folds, and I think I may come from touching _her_. I'm making sounds that are unintelligible and so is she, but she sounds like a symphony of sex and I sound like a wounded animal on Discovery Channel.

She tells me she wants to feel me inside of her as she grabs hold of my cock. I think it pulses in joy - if such a thing is possible. I moan my approval of this and she asks if I have a condom. What? Oh, Thank you, Emmett. Remind me to buy him a car or something for forcing that giant box of condoms in my suitcase. "Umm…I do," I say, embarrassed by the sheer number in the unused box. I pull one out and carefully put it on just like all of the literature on safe sex that I have ever read. Before I go on I ask, "Are you sure?" God, I hope so.

"Yes," she breathes, and then adds, "So fucking sure." That's all the encouragement I need.

"Oh, Bella. I want you so badly." I can't think of anything else to say. No Italian poetry or Shakespearean sonnets. Just - I. Fucking. Want. You. My brain is busy processing the touch, sights, sounds, scents, and tastes of Bella.

I am over her and we are kissing and she sucks my tongue in her mouth. I can't fight the groan that escapes me. I gaze at her as I line myself up to enter her. She opens herself to me a bit more as I push in, but it's very tight and I worry that I may hurt her. But her face shows pleasure and encouragement and I continue rocking against her and it's so amazing I can't believe this is happening. It's never been like this. . .and I don't really know her. . .but this is so right. I am calling her name as I feel my orgasm building and I can't stop it. . . oh no, please, not yet. . .but I am coming. . .

"Oh, Bella. . . yes, mmmph. . ."

And it's incredible.

An incredible failure. Because Bella did not get her turn. But I am exhausted and spent, so inwardly I vow to make it up to her after I recover from this round. I discard the condom and I reach for her and hold her close to me, kissing her face, her lips. I nuzzle my face into her hair and I think I can live here with my body pressed against hers. I ask my Bella where she came from and she says, "Berkeley' so low I can barely hear it. Hmm. That could be a very good thing. I think about what I'm going to do when we try again. I'm not going to stop until she feels as fantastic as I do.

Because she's worth it.

Isabella Swan. I'm going to make her mine.

But I fall asleep. And when I wake up. . .

"Bella?"

There's just an empty bed.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

**BPOV**

**Miami, March 12, 2010**

I am staring at his…cock? Yes, I can say cock. I mean, I am holding it in my hand. And really, he is huge! I'm not saying this to be all porn-star. It is because I am holding it in my hand and it is massive…and soft. Not _really_ soft, because, well, it's hard. But the skin is soft and smooth and feels so good in my hand and my god, he is _really_ going to try to put it inside me!

My sex clenches involuntarily and I don't know if it's from wanting to feel what I am holding in my hand there…inside me or if it because 'Little Bella' is afraid of something this big trying to push in and have a party inside her. But fuck me, if I don't want to have this party. I would have had engraved invitations made, had I known that this party was even a possibility. 'Little Bella' will just have to deal. She survived the Brazilian wax…this can't be that much worse. He moans as I squeeze it again…and I realize that I have been so consumed with his…_cock_…that I have forgotten that the perfect man is attached to it.

My eyes shoot up to meet his and he is staring at me intently. His eyes are dark and hooded and he looks just so…so fuckable. I have never used that word to describe anyone, well except for Johnny Depp, but then again…I've never held Johnny Depp's man parts in my hand. And I'm pretty sure that his isn't this big. Those pirate pants he wore were pretty tight. You would have been able to see a bulge or something.

_Fuck, Bella!_

_Stop fucking thinking about Johnny fucking Depp!_

I noticed that at the very tip of his beautiful and very large cock is leaking clear fluid and while I am not completely inexperienced and understand what that is, for the first time ever…I want to taste it. I eye him hesitantly, but his gorgeous face is telling me that he would probably let me do anything I want…so I do it. I lean forward quickly and kiss the tip, swirling my tongue around the top. He tastes like white chocolate. Well, really he tastes like skin…and little sweet and salt, but I don't mind the taste.

"Oh, my…Bella?" he moans. "What are…shit…oh, your mouth."

The fact that he's cursed seems so dirty…and hot and I wonder if I should try to put the whole thing in my mouth. I mean my mouth certainly seems bigger than my other…well, the _other_ place that he is going to put this. Just as I'm about to take the plunge, I hear him speaking again.

"Oh…god…please, don't…I'm going to…stop…"

I pull back and he is up and kicking his pants the rest of the way down. He is awkward in his movements, but I can't really care because I am in awe of the way his body looks as his legs kick and his body flails. He is still beautiful and I can't wait to feel him over me…under me. Fuck, it doesn't really matter. I would do whatever he wants. He reaches back for me and I go willingly, clumsily into his arms. I feel my breasts press against his chest and his mouth is on mine again. We are kissing and moaning and making ridiculous sounds. Only, they're not ridiculous because he is making them with me and validating each and everything that I'm feeling that is eliciting these pants and moans and gasps.

He reaches for the button on my jeans and begins to unbutton them. He pulls his mouth from mine and he murmurs and soft and low, "You are so beautiful. We don't have to do this and I can stop if you want me to."

_No, sex god…please, don't stop!_

I shake my head, letting him know that I don't want to stop because if I speak, I know I will beg him shamelessly to continue. And I don't know what's worse…the fact that I would beg…or the fact that I don't care that I would beg. I feel his finger and thumb on the zipper as he tries to lower it and it gets stuck. He pulls down a little harder and I wonder if my pants are too tight. I mean, I don't think that they're too tight, but really, he seems to be having a hard time. I reach down and cover his hand with mine.

"I can do that if…if you want," I say, not wanting him to think that I don't think he can do it, but mostly because I really want to get my pants off and join him in the world where he is naked and we are going to have sex.

I pull on my zipper, and it's stuck and I think that he is relieved that it wasn't just him. I yank harder and finally, mercifully, my pants are unzipped. He begins to push on the denim on my hips and I'm not sure if it's the position I am in or if it's the denim itself, but they aren't really moving all that much. I want to help him again, but I'm afraid that this will upset him, so I fall back onto the bed and lift up my hips.

"This way," I pant. "It might be easier this way."

The denim is still wet and he's still having a hard time getting them down. I hate fucking skinny jeans and I vow to never wear them again. I feel his fingers on my hips as he is trying to pull down my pants. Even the feeling of just his fingers on my skin is hot. I wonder if the universe is telling me that maybe I shouldn't be doing this, but then I think that the universe must hate me if it doesn't want me to sleep with the perfect man above me. And then I decide that I don't really fucking care what the universe thinks…especially if it hates me.

"Just yank them down," I tell him. "It's because I'm wet…I mean…it's because the jeans are wet, you know…with the scotch."

He is looking at me questioningly and I'm not sure what I should say or do, so I just start talking.

"I mean, I'm wet too…and if we could just get these pants off you could see for yourself…or feel…oh, god."

_Shut up, Bella!_

I place my hands over his and I wiggle my hips and shimmy and finally, we get them (and my panties) pulled off. He's looking at me there and his expression is one of shock, desire…maybe both. Rose told me that men were really into the whole waxing thing and while I wasn't sure…there is something about the way that he is looking at me like that…that makes me so happy I agreed to do it.

He reaches his hand forward and slips a finger between my bare lips. I know that I am dripping like a faucet and I wonder if it's normal to be as wet as I am. The feeling of him touching me causes all other thoughts to leave my mind and I try to focus on just the feeling of what he's doing to me. It feels so good and I am moaning and whimpering, but he is missing the _one part_ that I _really_ want him to touch. His face is concentrated, but he looks grateful and all I can think of is how I am the grateful one. And I would be even more thankful if he could just touch the on button. I consider doing it myself, but I don't want to offend him and really, him touching me feels better than anything else I've ever experienced.

"Edward?" I whisper.

"Bella? Is everything okay?"

"Yes…but I really want to feel you," I say and I reach my hand out and take him into my hand. "I want to feel you inside me."

I feel him twitch in my hand and I think he must like that I've said this.

His moan at my touch confirms what I was thinking.

I haven't thought about protection up until this point. I am on the pill, but I don't know anything about him and as much as I would like to feel him, bare inside me…I also want to be responsible.

"Do you have a condom?" I ask.

He looks embarrassed and I'm afraid that fun time is now over.

"Umm…I do," he says sheepishly.

He reaches into the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a box. The first thing I notice is that the box is unopened and I am relived. I don't know why, but there is something about him that makes me feel that he is like me…and something like this is not an everyday occurrence. He pulls a condom from the box and I watch as he methodically places it over his sex. There is something completely arousing about watching him do this and I really want to be the one to do that next time.

_Next time?_

_This is a spring break hook-up, Bella. There will be no next time._

"Are you sure?" he asks again and I love that he is so concerned.

"Yes," I pant. "So fucking sure."

"Oh, Bella," he rasps. "I want you so badly."

He is over me now and we are kissing. The kisses have improved tremendously over the course of our evening. I can't believe how assertive and assured he is now that we are naked and humping each other like teenagers. And oh, my! What is he doing with his tongue? It feels incredible in my mouth. I think I want to suck it…so I do. I am rewarded with him groaning into my mouth and the sight of his beautiful green eyes widening at my forward behavior. Tongue sucking – definitely good.

He reaches between us and I am nervous about what is going to happen. I am really sure it won't fit, but as I feel the tip of him at my entrance, I don't care anymore. I spread my legs further in order to help things along and I feel him begin to push in. And it's big and I'm small, but I don't care at all because the feeling of him even partially inside me is wonderful. He is making inarticulate noises above me and that is just making me hotter. I tense as he pushes in a little more.

He really isn't going to fit.

I hear my name escape his lips and suddenly, just the sound of my name coming from him in that tone of voice is better than the feeling of what he's doing to me. This is the truth because no one has ever said my name like that. He sounds the way I feel...amazed. I feel him push again and I hear him call out above me.

"Oh, Bella…yes…."

And with his words, he is beside me, breathing into my ear and pulling me close to him. Through the haze of passion and alcohol, it dawns on me that it's over. I feel him moving beside me and I wonder what he's doing. I definitely didn't finish, but the way he is holding me and kissing me, really makes me not care that I didn't finish. I'm just happy that I began. I wonder if I should get up because this is not my room and surely, he doesn't want me to stay all night. I look to him so that I can assess the situation because I have never been this girl. I don't know how to do a 'walk of shame'. When I look into his green eyes and I see his lips that are swollen and fuller from my kisses, he kisses me again. And it doesn't feel like he wants me to go.

I'm still not sure, but he pulls me closer and he's holding me now. Not just holding me, but _really_ holding me. Gently, tenderly…not the way you hold a one-night stand. I relax into him because I love the way _this_ feels and I can't pinpoint exactly what _this_ feeling is because I've never experienced it.

"Where did you come from?" he asks, his voice all husky and deep.

I don't know if he's thinking out loud or really asking me, so I whisper that I go to school at Berkeley. I say it so low, I'm not even sure he can hear. He kisses me one last and murmurs my name and I watch as his sleepy and faintly intoxicated eyes close as he pulls me even closer and he falls asleep.

I stay there in his arms, looking at him and wondering how someone I barely know has given me more intimacy in these few moments than I've ever felt with anyone.

And I am confused and disappointed that this is all we will be.

One night.

With the perfect man.

And even though he didn't give me an orgasm, he gave me so much more.

And I know that I will remember this one crazy, beautiful night forever.

When I am certain that's he's asleep, I press my lips to his once more and I quietly extract myself from his arms. This is how I want to remember him – holding me and seemingly blissful in his sleep. Not with some awkward morning after, where I am scrambling around his room looking for my panties.

_Oh, god…where are my panties?_

After I am dressed, I look at him and I smile before whispering his name aloud one last time…and I slip quietly out the door.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Tired, but Excited

Dear Edward,

Good morning. Well, I guess it's not technically morning there, but it still is here. I just woke up a little while ago and went to get a cup of coffee. I was a little tired this morning after our late-night conversation. I love that I get to say that we had a conversation. (Almost as much as I love saying your name.) I don't know how you were able to get up so early this morning. You must be exhausted…especially since you have an aversion to caffeine. Honestly, how do you survive without coffee? Or Diet Coke? I would be in a perpetual state of fatigue. But I would be tired everyday if it meant that I could talk to you.

So, I hope I didn't freak you out with all the 'bee-talk'. Really, I don't know why I can't just continue on the same avoidance plan that has been working for six years now. Really. I think the bees are more scared of me than I am of them. Well, mostly. It kind of sucks actually. I have to avoid places with flowers because of all the pollen. You know, when you think about it…bees are kind of like man-whores. I mean they have sex with tons of flowers and pretty much fly around all day spreading 'the love' around. I guess you wouldn't know anything about man-whores, though.

I can't believe that you're going to be here this summer! I also can't believe that you have known all along that it was a possibility. I hope that you are half as excited as me. I don't know, Edward…I wonder what it will really be like for us to be together again. How do you imagine us spending our time together? What kinds of things do envision us doing?

So, I was thinking about that thing we talked about last night. You know…the number thing…my chat name. I hope you don't think that I'm licentious because I knew what that was. It's not like I've ever done it. I've only ever seen it done. (In porn.) Christ, you must think I'm promiscuous. I slept with you the first time we met. And that was after I dragged you into a bathroom and made you feel me up like a wanton floozy. That's the thing, Edward. I don't do those things. I never did anything like that before you. (Well, except the porn. But in my defense, it's not like I have a collection. At least, not a big one.) Anyway…my point is that it's you. You make me want to do those things. Including that thing we talked about last night. What do you think about that?

I want to tell you that when I was getting coffee a little while ago, a guy asked me out on a date. Well, he offered to buy my coffee first and then he asked me out on a date. So, there I was standing in the coffee house, feeling uncomfortable that this guy was talking to me…and I did something that I think I should tell you about. I hope you won't be mad. I told him no and then I told him that I had a boyfriend. I know that you've never said that before…and I'm sorry if I overstepped. I just thought that I should tell you. It wasn't important, but it seemed important…to me.

I have to get to class soon. I should be home this evening if you wanted to call and talk to me again. I would really enjoy that. Also, I was wondering if we could maybe continue the email thing. Do you think we could? Would you be opposed to continuing at all? I know that it can be time consuming. I just really love it. Really. I don't think I can tell you how much. It's romantic and it makes me feel…special.

Missing your voice…and you,

Bella

P.S.

Is there something I could do to make you feel special?

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Decisive and Devoted

My Bella,

Has it been only two months since we were together? It feels like a lifetime that we have been apart. You have affected my life so profoundly; I am in your debt. Now I feel like I have a well-rounded life, not just professional success.

I am sorry that you are fatigued from talking to me. I do not get tired. With my strict nutrition regimen and vitamin supplements, I don't need artificial stimulants (and you are quite stimulating in other ways, Miss Swan). I have attached a personalized plan for you to follow (if you choose - obviously) based on your height and weight and caloric needs (I estimated based on our last physical encounter- assuming you have not had a drastic change in weight). Please let me know if it fulfilled your needs.

I am thrilled that you want to continue with the emails; I feel the same way. I must tell you how amazing it was to speak to you on the phone. I will admit that I was a bit nervous about it, but as with all of our interactions, it ended up being perfect (for me anyway. I cannot speak for you). You broach provocative subjects, (like a certain numerically-named sexual position) that make me blush and stammer, but I love how open you are. Don't be afraid to ask me; I'm definitely willing to try new things with you.

Though I am most certainly not a man-whore, I am familiar with the term. (Emmett explained - he was one once and I was to refrain from partaking on that course). I find your comparisons to bees quite amusing. You certainly pepper your writing with colorful metaphors.

Bella, I take umbrage to you calling yourself a floozy. I was with you in that bathroom and hotel room and I thought it was the greatest experience in my life, not something to be ashamed of. I firmly believe that we are supposed to be together. I don't want to call it fate or magic because those terms are so unscientific, but what else can it be? (I will continue to look for a reasonable explanation, however). So please, Bella, don't make us something wrong . . . because it's unbelievably right to me.

Now, about this date. I'm certainly aware of your physical appeal and have thought about this eventuality. I brainstormed ways of keeping men away from you (you in a burka, or a t-shirt that says "I belong to Edward," or beating up any man that talks to you) but they were all possessive and irrational. (I apologize; I'm not very creative and apparently have anger issues). But I have finally come to one decision that will make me deliriously happy and solve this problem. I need your help, however.

Just say yes.

Bella,  
will you please be my girlfriend?

All my devotion,

Edward

P.S.

I've told you what you can do to make me feel special- just be mine (in a non-ownership, 50/50 partnership fashion, of course).

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

**A/N**

**We love and appreciate each and every review.**

**We are trying to reply to everyone, but the response has been so overwhelming and it has been nearly impossible to get to all of you. We will be posting Edward's reply on the LiMB thread on Twilighted this week. The link is on our profile page.**

**We will be doing an exclusive outtake of LiMB for FGB Eclipse. If you are interested in being a part of Team Forthwithward, please contact AllyinPerth on Twitter. She is the team captain.**

**Also I, Marvar, am the Team Darcyward captain for Retail Therapy by Cosmogirl7481. Contact me on Twitter (marvar29) or email forthwithward (at) gmail (dot) com to support FGBEclipse. Cosmo promises some hot lemon action.**

**Talk to us on Twitter: cosmogirl7481 and marvar29**

**See you next Friday!**


	12. Re: How Bella Got Her O Back

**A/N**

**Cosmogirl7481: So, Marvar, did you have any idea that so many women were turned on by big, geeky words?**

**Marvar: I'm turned on by big, geeky words. They're just so much better coming from that impossibly gorgeous 24 year-old mouth.**

**Cosmogirl7481: Yes…well, as much as I love the big words, I would much rather the impossibly gorgeous 24 year-old mouth do something else. J/S**

**Marvar: You would.**

**Cosmogirl7481: And you wouldn't? I've seen your lip porn collection.**

**Marvar: Ok. I'd shove old people and children aside to get up close to that mouth.**

**Marvar: On a serious note, I would like to thank everyone that congratulated me on getting my Masters. You are all wonderful and supportive. Ok, now that I've bored everyone with my statement, here's the chapter: **

**Chapter 11**

**Re: How Bella Got Her O Back**

I have the biggest grin on my face right now and my first instinct is to call him and say yes.

Yes, yes, yes, yes!

Yes, I'll be your girlfriend, Edward. No, strike that. Hell yes, I'll be your girlfriend!

I pick up my phone to call him. I scroll down to his name, I hold my finger over the call button…and I just can't. Not yet. I need to re-read his email. I need to make sure that what I read before was _actually_ what I think it was.

Edward Masen asked me to be his girlfriend.

(Soon to be) Dr. Edward Masen, MD asked me to be his girlfriend.

_Edward Masen_

_Edward Masen and Bella Swan_

_Dr. and Mrs. Edward Masen, MD_

Scratch that.

Definitely keeping my own name.

_Dr. Edward Masen, MD and Pulitzer Prize winning novelist, Isabella Swan_

Yes, that is definitely more like it.

Fuck, Bella. Snap out of it! He's closer to giving you his class ring than a wedding ring.

I re-read the email anyway, not because I need clarification (Edward is always very clear), but mostly because I want to read the wonderful things he said to me again. When I am finished, I am still swooning. Still smiling. And yes, I still want to call him…so, I do. This time with no hesitation. It rings four times (and my heart beats four-hundred times) and then I hear his voice…

"_This is Edward Masen. Obviously, I am unable to answer my phone, so please leave a clear and concise message. All others will be erased forthwith."_

I love him.

No, wait…I don't love him! Not yet, anyway.

Do I?

I look at the clock and realize that it is after nine here and that means that it's after midnight for him. And he is probably sleeping, due to the strict regimen that he has himself on. This reminds me that I need to look at the attachment that he sent me with his personalized plan. I hope he doesn't expect me to go to sleep before eleven or give up coffee. I would have to say no and I would be afraid of hurting his feelings. I decide to send him an email. He asked me in an email…I can respond the same way.

This is good.

I can think about my words and not ramble like an idiot…I mean _really_, he must think I'm an idiot sometimes.

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Yes. 100 times, yes!

Dear Edward,

It is nine-thirty and I just called you. Sometimes, it's easy to forget that we live in different time zones and it's after midnight there. You were probably sleeping...unless, on top of being Indiana Jones and James Bond, you are also Batman, and accepting calls from the commissioner. (I don't really think you're Batman.) I mean, not that you couldn't be Bruce Wayne. You could be, but just so you know...I think you're hotter than Christian Bale...and Michael Keaton. (He was Batman, too, right?)

I'm sorry if the ringing phone disturbed your peaceful sleep. At least, I hope it was peaceful and filled with sweet dreams. Of me and not Catwoman. Because while you could be the dark knight, I could not be Catwoman. Leather really irritates my sensitive skin. (I had an unfortunate incident with a pair of leather pants that Rosalie talked me into.) Anyway, I called you because I just read your email...and saw your question.

Edward, I wanted to call you right away so that I could hear your voice when I told you my answer. Since you are sleeping, I decided to email you my response. Just in case you were wondering or had any doubts at all - my answer is an overwhelming and exuberant yes! Yes, Edward. Yes. There is nothing that I would love more than to be your girlfriend. Except maybe some other things that I want to do with you, but those things will be so much better when we do them BECAUSE I am your girlfriend. (Much better, actually).

Wow.

Just wow.

It felt really good to say that. Or really, to type it. The sentiment is still the same, I guess. Though, I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't really excited about talking to you again. Just to hear your voice is more wonderful than I can tell you. I know I talk too much and that I often times will say things without thinking. "Broaching proactive subjects" was your sweet and wonderful way of telling me that I say embarrassing things. I hope I don't make you feel uncomfortable. I really don't mean to. It's just that you - you make me want to say those things and ask those questions. You can tell me if I get to be too much. You can do that now. I'm your girlfriend. You should be able to tell your girlfriend anything.

So, did you find a more scientific and reasonable explanation for our meeting and being together? Because I have to say...I really loved the way that the idea of 'fate' and 'magic' made me feel. Fate more so than magic. It could have been magic. This all has elements of magical. But it's not like there was some sort of love-spell. Unless scotch and Jack Daniels combined to make the ultimate love-potion. Well...the alcohol and the Italian and the emails and the way it felt when you touched me. Yeah, never mind. All of that has been...magic. And you are like a wizard. Like Merlin. (I say Merlin because he is so much cooler than Harry Potter.) I hope that doesn't offend you. Some people are really obsessed with Harry Potter.

By the way, I read over your personalized plan for me. It seems pretty strict. I don't know if I would be able to stick to it. I hope my lack of discipline doesn't disappoint you terribly and make you regret your decision to want to be my boyfriend. I mean, I could try some of it. I don't know about the diet plan, but I wouldn't mind taking the vitamins. Rosalie hates taking pills. She has a hard time swallowing them. I don't really have a hard time swallowing at all. So, yeah. I could take the vitamins. Is there a particular brand that you prefer, Doctor?

On that note, according to my plan, I should be going to bed so that I "can get adequate sleep to restore and rejuvenate my body and mind." Thank you for being concerned about both. I'd like to think that my heart is in better condition now, as well. Just in case you were wondering.

Goodnight, Edward.

Your Adoring Girlfriend,

Bella

PS

I don't know about the burka, but I wouldn't mind wearing an "I Belong to Edward" t-shirt.

Because I do.

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Desired Response

Dear Bella,

I really wish I were awake when you called, but you know I require regular hours of sleep (I am currently working on a new sleep regimen for my residency). I would've loved to hear you answer me. But it seems apropos that we make it official through an email, since that is how we shared and deepened our feelings for each other.

So, yes? If I were a small child I would describe myself as giddy. But I will settle for ecstatic. I promise to respect you and care for you, Bella. You are very important to me, and I know that this is not a conventional relationship right now, but I will be completely devoted to you wherever I am. When I read that you are exuberant and overwhelmed by me, it makes me feel incredible (I appreciate your descriptive adjectives, by the way). You make me feel wanted. I never felt like that before. It is quite magical and I can't explain it any other way - maybe I pulled out Excalibur in another life (I can suspend disbelief to create an apt metaphor).

I'm still not sure why you insist on comparing me with these fictional characters. I lead a very normal life, but you seem to think it's rather extraordinary. I have few characteristics in common with these men (i.e. multiple languages, formalwear, charitable donations, foreign cars), but I like reading that you think I'm hot. Maybe you could explain that to me in detail. And in return I could share with you how erotic and enticing you are.

Because you drive me insane (not literally, I'm making a point using exaggeration – there is no history of mental illness in my family). I don't think I've told you that before. I want to share my feelings with you because you are my girlfriend. We are in a relationship together (of course you know that, but I like to see it in print). I know what you mean when you said that you wanted to do things with me now that we are committed to each other. I want to take you on a proper date and hold your hand and hug and kiss you (with your consent of course). I think about that, and more, all of the time.

While I am pleased to read that you read my plan for you, I don't want you to feel pressure to follow it verbatim (it is not a prescription). I just want you to have lots of energy – especially when I see you because there are so many things I want to do with you. I'm glad that you don't have a problem swallowing, because have a protein drink for you to try (Emmett says it's disgusting, but it's packed with vitamins), and you if just take it all down in one shot, it's not that bad.

And, by the way, I found a reliable website, so expect your "I Belong to Edward" t-shirt in 2-4 days. I hope you wear size small.

Your boyfriend,

Edward

P.S.

I long to see you again. I'm counting the days until I move. (37).

**BPOV**

Stepping out of the shower, I dry myself off and change into a tank top and a pair of cotton yoga pants. I feel completely relaxed from the hot water and the yoga class I took this evening. It was nice to spend some time with Alice after. We ended up getting a cup of tea at the juice bar after class and we talked about Edward…and how…well, how I suppose we have made our status official now.

I squeal internally (again) at just the thought that Edward is my boyfriend…officially.

Alice didn't seem surprised at all. Instead, she was ecstatic that he'd asked. She told me a little more about this Jessica that he dated. The thought of her pisses me off slightly and I take a deep breath, trying to find the calm of the moments before. She was a real bitch, this Jessica. Even her name is stupid. I mean, I don't know what it means or anything, but I can't imagine that it means anything important. I sit down at my laptop to Google the meaning of Jessica and as the webpage comes up, I smile to myself. This is absolutely something that Edward would do.

Here it is…the meaning of Jessica.

"_Woman of wealth."_

I should have known that the bitch would be a gold-digger.

I quickly close the laptop and try not to think about the last (and I think only) person he's ever really dated. I mean, thinking about your boyfriend's ex is never really a good time. Instead, I choose to lie down and I will him – with my now centered and focused mind – to call me. We haven't spoken since the emails where we expressed our feelings to be exclusive and I really want to hear his voice…his perfect, soft and sexy voice.

I hold my Blackberry in my hand for a few minutes and sooner than later, my phone is ringing. I see his number come up and I answer it as soon as I know it's him.

"Hello."

My voice is all breathy and stupid.

"Hello," he says and I melt at just the sound of his voice. "This is Edward."

I know. It's him, of course, but I like the way he's so proper.

"Hey, Edward," I all but sigh. "How are you?"

"I am quite well, thank you," he says. "Even better since I got your message."

I kick my legs on the bed furiously (but also quietly). I don't want him to know what a total idiot girl I am. He is so smart and I wonder if some of the things I do would irritate him. Like the way I act like a child sometimes…or the way I ramble on and on. I don't really mean to do it, but sometimes my thoughts (and my mouth) just get carried away.

Just like this.

Dammit! I still haven't responded.

"Good...me, too," I tell him honestly. Because I am so much better than good at the moment. He just told me that he was better since he got my message and I'm really hoping that he means the message where I told him that I wanted to be his girlfriend and not the uber-awkward voice mail I left him when I couldn't even say my own name. "Which one?"

"Um, both were excellent," he tells me and I smile because he's so fucking cute and I just want to lick him. "But I was mainly referring to your reply."

"Yeah? I was hoping you meant that one," I tell him and I wonder if he can hear my smile from across the country. He probably has excellent hearing. "I'm even better since I got yours too...I mean...it was...umm...thank you."

_Yes, Edward. I'm a lit major and I speak so eloquently._

"So, um, what were you doing?"

_Being emo and self-deprecating._

"When? Just now?"

"Yes. I am interrupting anything?"

_You can interrupt me anytime._

I wonder if it would be lame for me to tell him that I was lying in bed, wishing for him to call. I decide that I would want to know if he was doing that…so I'm honest.

"Well, I went to yoga with Alice this evening and I just got home a little while ago. So, I took a shower and now I'm lying in bed. And no...you're not interrupting anything...I was hoping you would call."

"So, you and Alice are close now?" he asks, but it seems like more of an observation.

"Yeah. I guess so. I mean, we would have been in yoga together anyway, but now it's nice to know her."

"She is very fond of you."

I wonder if they talk about me the way that we have talked about him.

"I like her, too," I tell him. "So...umm, what are _you_ doing?"

I hope that he is thinking about me and missing me and possibly lying in bed, too.

"I just finished studying. Finals are next week."

Of course, he is studying. He is so responsible and perfect. I don't want him to think that I'm some slacker, so I put on my metaphorical 'studious glasses' and talk to him about my finals, too.

"Yeah...for me, too. I think I'm pretty prepared, but I still have a lot I need to study. One class has been pretty challenging."

"Can I help?"

"It's helping just to get to talk to you. Besides, I don't think you know that much about Modern Lit," I say and quickly realize that what I said sounded insulting. I quickly try to backtrack. "Fuck...I didn't mean it that way...I mean I'm sure you know plenty...I just meant...well, I mean...never mind."

_Please don't be insulted! Please, please don't be insulted! I think you're brilliant and you never ramble or say things that are inappropriate…and also, you're wonderful…_

I hold my breath (and my tongue) and wait for him to speak.

"I'm not offended. English is not my forte," he says. "I merely wanted to lend support or encouragement."

_Because you're the sweetest boyfriend in the world._

"Well, you speak it very well...but I will have to admit...you are pretty good with Italian."

"You aren't taking Italian," he says matter of factly. "Are you studying Italian poetry?"

"No...I'm not. I was just...remembering." I sigh and my mind wonders back to the first night again with him and the Petrarca that he quoted to me in the bar.

I didn't know who that was, but I remembered what he said. (The translation in the bathroom…not the actual Italian.) He was so romantic…even then.

"Remembering?" he asks.

"Your voice...the way you sounded when you spoke to me in Italian. Don't you remember?" I ask, my voice soft and low.

"God," he rasps and it's so fucking sexy, I can't stand it. "How could I forget?"

I am feeling all kinds of tingly in my lady parts. And I do mean parts because my nipples are now erect and I'm not even cold. In fact, I'm all warm and flushed.

"It was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me," I tell him. "Well...until now."

I giggle now because I'm nervous that we haven't actually discussed our new relationship status and I really want to hear him say it…to call me his girlfriend. A part of me thinks it won't really be true until he does.

"Really? That makes me feel, well, special. I would do that for you anytime," he says so sincerely and I know it's completely true. "Wait, what happened that was so romantic now?"

"Umm...really?" I ask because how can he not know what it meant to me for him to do that…to ask that? And then I feel bad for thinking that way because I know he's shy and sweet and it's one of the countless reasons I adore him and _actually_ looked for "I Belong to Edward" shirts online - until he told me he bought me one. "I mean...I guess...I mean it was romantic when you asked me to be your girlfriend. I mean...I thought it was romantic."

"Oh. Good," he says and he sounds relieved. "I thought someone else did something. I'm glad it was me doing it."

"No, Edward...no one else," I tell him, a little shocked by my outright admission, but I continue on because I want him to know how I feel and also, I tend to talk a lot when I'm nervous. "I wouldn't even be able to look at someone else...or even think about someone else. Just you...I mean...what I mean is...I can't stop thinking about you...it borders on ridiculous."

My voice is nervous and breathy because I've basically just admitted to my new boyfriend that I think about him all the time and even though it's true, he might find it a little strange. I mean, he was actually studying when I was clinging to my Blackberry like it was 'the one ring to rule them all', willing him to call me. I'm surprised I didn't call it precious.

"Why would it be ridiculous for you to think about me?" he asks. "I think about you all of the time also."

And yes…I'm kicking my legs on the mattress again because he has just made my heart swell.

"All the time? Really?" I ask, because I'm a silly girl and I want to hear him say it again.

"I'm actually quite proud of it."

"Proud of thinking about me?" I ask because his choice of words is unexpected. "Why?"

"Because." There is an awkward pause when neither of us says anything. "Wow. That was eloquent."

I giggle again because I'm ridiculous and he's made a joke at his own expense, but I don't want him to think I'm laughing at him because I'm not.

"It's okay. I think I know what you mean."

"Because now I have someone to share things with," he says earnestly. "A partner."

"Wow. You see me as a partner?"

"I meant it when I said that in my email."

"50/50?" I ask, not expecting a response. "I liked that."

And I did…I do.

My heart is pounding because I am about to make the lamest attempt at flirting that anyone has ever seen. Well, no one will see it, but Edward will hear it and I can only hope that it has the desired effect that I want.

"Hey, Edward?"

"What, Bella?"

"Guess what I'm doing..."

_Please don't think I'm stupid._

"What? I'm not very good at guessing. Forming hypotheses based upon evidence, yes."

"I was just going to say that I was talking to...my boyfriend." I try to make my voice all soft and sweet like his because, really, he has no idea what it does to me. "What are you doing?"

I'm holding my breath, praying that he'll play along. (And if god _really_ is a woman, he will.)

"Talking to my girlfriend."

And just like that, I melt with a sigh.

"Thank you. That's the first time I've actually heard you call me that. I like it. A lot."

"Well then, I will do my best to please you," he says…and his voice sounds lower than before.

I feel the conversation shifting…and I want it to.

"Tell me, what would please you?"

"Um, I really like hearing your voice," he says. "When you say Edward."

I know this about him and it makes me feel good that I know this about him.

"Edward…" I say and I practically moan. "Mmm...I like saying it. Really, I do."

I am at a serious level of aroused right now and I wonder if he is, too. Trying to be quiet and also not really think about what I'm doing…I slip off my pants with one hand. It's awkward, but I manage to get them off and tossed on the floor. I don't know if we're going to do what I really hope we're going to do, but I want to be ready just in case.

"I also like it when I can hear you sigh," he admits. "But your happy sigh, not the sad one."

I sigh…and it's blissful.

"That one was happy...I'm really happy right now, Edward."

I say his name just for him. (And well, because I like to say it too.)

I hear him groan and it takes everything I have not to reach my hand down and touch myself. I settle for swirling the tip of my finger around my nipple.

"I know," he says and yeah, his voice is really low and I think that maybe there is a possibility that we are going to do this. And I've never done this before. "I can tell. But I'd be happier if I could see you."

"What would you do if you could see me?"

"I would try to memorize all of your expressions," he says…because he wasn't perfect enough already. "Learn your face so when I'm working I can still see you in my mind."

"God..." I moan and it's so loud it's embarrassing. "That was just...you are just...Edward...I miss you. Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Bella."

"Ummm...where are you? Right now? I want to picture you..."

_Please be on your bed…please, be on your bed…_

"Sitting at my desk."

_Fuck._

"Edward?"

"Yes, Bella?"

_I can do this. I can just ask him._

"I was just wondering...umm...do you think that maybe...what I mean is...do you think that maybe you could lay down on your bed? I mean...you don't have to, but I was just thinking that you know...you could...and it would be kind of like we were lying down...together. You know? That's stupid, isn't it...I mean, you don't have to...fuck, forget I said anything."

**EPOV**

Such a seemingly simple request. Why is it making me perspire?

"Bella. I would be happy to lie down on my bed and talk to you. We're on the phone, not the computer. I was getting ready for bed, anyway. I already showered and brushed my teeth. And Bella, you don't have to feel stupid about asking me to do something. I would pretty much do what ever you wanted." I walk over to my bed and prop myself up with pillows. I really don't want neck strain. I respond to her before she thinks that I've hung up. "I'm on my bed now."

"Edward," I hear her sweet laugh. "Thank you." I love it when she sounds like this.

"It's very comfortable talking to you this way. I can stretch out," I'm actually feeling sort of relaxed, which is unusual because talking to Bella usually makes me feel sort of anxious, like something is missing or my underwear is the wrong size.

"Yeah? What size bed do you have?" she asks.

"Queen," I reply.

"That's the perfect size. I only have a full."

"I'm too tall for anything smaller. I hate when my feet dangle over the edge."

"So, I guess you wouldn't be able to sleep in my bed, then...huh?" Oh, please don't think that. I must make her see that I would sleep on the floor as long as it was next to her.

"I think you could squeeze me in if you wanted to," I say casually. I don't want to sound too eager.

"Well...ummm...I kinda squeezed you in before...In the bed...but you know...not _in_the bed..." She giggles.

Holy shit. Obviously I don't say that aloud. I just realized how my answer sounded. Now I'm thinking about squeezing. . . myself. . . in her. **"**Do you know what that does to me?"

"What? Tell me..." she breathes, testing my resolve to not break into perversion.

"I may need another shower," I admit. I think she likes my personal hygiene because at the mention of the shower, she starts groaning loudly. And it sounds pretty great.

"Edward? Can I ask you another question?"

"What are you doing, Bella? I can tell your breathing has changed." When I see her I'm going to check her lungs.

"I was just thinking about you...and us...and showers...and...squeezing..." Her voice is breathy and it sounds like she's blowing in my ear.

"Squeezing. . .showers. . ." I can't quell the sizable erection that's threatening the integrity of my 100% cotton briefs.

"What do you sleep in, Edward?" Wow, she's like a mind reader.

"Um, boxers? I'm very warm at night." I don't tell her it's because I have very vivid dreams that cast her in the role of sex goddess.

"Is that what you have on now?"

"Uh, yes. They're the fitted kind. Not too tight because it's bad for the circulation. It's possible to lose motility of your sperm. . ." I trail off because I don't think she wants to hear about my sperm. She's probably disgusted by the thought of my sperm and me in my underwear. Why do I always offer up scientific facts? Why can't I say something sexy?

"Mmm. . .I was just wondering. . .now I have a visual," she whispers.

"Are you picturing me in my underwear?" I can't believe that she's interested.

"Yeah...I guess I am...is that bad?" she sounds embarrassed.

"No, It's actually pretty flattering. Can I, um, ask you what you are wearing?" I guess I understand her feelings. I suddenly really want to know what's covering her bare little. . . oh god.

"Well...right now I'm wearing boyshorts and a tank top...but I usually sleep in yoga pants. I get cold at night. But...ummm...I kinda took my pants off...well...just a little while ago...I was umm...warm."

Wait, boy shorts? What boy gave her his shorts? Could it be an old boyfriend? Disgusting. I would _never _keep Jessica's shorts. "Whose shorts are you wearing?" I ask with a hint of anger.

"What do you mean?" she sounds confused.

"You are wearing boy shorts, right? What boy?"

"Oh...no...I'm wearing _boyshorts_...They're panties. For girls. But they are designed to look like boy's underwear. Some people call them cheeky panties because...umm...well...god...because they kind of show off your...cheeks. I don't wear any boy's shorts, Edward." Great. Now I've upset her because I don't know how to categorize women's undergarments. I should have read the Victoria's Secret that Emmett gave me. Never underestimate the power of knowledge, even if its necessity is questionable.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I know Alice would sleep in her boyfriend's t-shirts and I thought it was . . .never mind," I am such a loser. How does she even like me?

"I would sleep in your t-shirts. Maybe one that you play soccer in..."

"God that would be hot. In my t-shirt and little cheeky panties," I groan because I can't help myself anymore. The visual is just too incredible.

"You think that would be hot? You know what? I think so too. . . Mmm. . . what are you thinking about, Edward?"

I'm barely thinking. My mind is a haze of sex and Bella. I blurt out, "My soccer shirt gets really damp. I perspire quite profusely during games. I'm usually dripping wet." Fantastic. I'm telling her about my sweaty body. That's almost as disgusting as my sperm motility. I wonder if you can Google phone sex. . .

"Edward...that's okay....my panties are kinda damp right now..." Fuck. I just dropped the phone. I'm glad she can't hear my exclamation. I recover, barely, and she's frantically calling for me.

"Edward? Edward?"

"Um, sorry. I got a little distracted." That's an understatement. I don't tell her that thinking about her damp panties makes my cock throb.

"With what?" she asks.

"You. Panties. Wet." I can't even form a complete sentence.

"Ummm...are you. . .you know, hard?"

"Jeee-susss," I hiss. Oh, I need a shower.

"I'm sorry...did I make you uncomfortable? I mean...I just thought that...I mean..."

"How could I not be?" I mean, does she really not know the effects of her voice and the things she says? Blood flows like a tsunami to my groin.

"What? Uncomfortable? Oh god, I'm sorry. . ."

"No, hard. Don't be sorry. Unless it offends you? Then I apologize for mentioning it."

"It doesn't offend me...I'm glad you are...I like that I made it that way..."

"It's just your voice and all the little noises you make and talking about your p-panties. . . I am a man, Bella. You definitely made it that way," I'm stuttering and sweating and a mess.

"Are you?"

"What? A man?" If she could see my erection, I think it would be quite clear.

"No...touching it?" I almost drop the phone again.

"Uh, do you want me too?" Please say yes. My hand creeps across my abdomen into my boxers.

"Do you want to?" she moans and I hear movement.

"Oh, yes. Bella, are you touching yourself? Those noises sound familiar."

"Maybe..." she lets out a quiet whimper.

"Oh god, you are touching yourself." My hand grips the base of my cock and I give myself a slow stroke.

"A little....do you want me to stop? I just couldn't help myself."

"No, don't stop, baby. Do I make you want to touch yourself?

"Yes...and I wish...I wish..."

"What, tell me what you wish."

"I wish that it was you...that you were the one...touching me." She's panting and it sounds amazing. My hand is working at a steady pace and I can feel the heat building.

"Fuck, you're going to kill me. I wish I was touching you. Everywhere. And I really wish you were touching me."

"I loved the way your fingers felt inside me. . . I remember, you know. I mean. . .I remember the way you felt. . ." So do I, Bella. I can barely think of anything else.

"Oh, god, I know exactly where I'd touch you. And this time I wouldn't stop."

"Edward?" she whispers; it's almost a moan.

"Y-esss," I hiss out as I'm getting closer.

"I really want to. . . come. . ." She's nearly begging me.

"Oh, please, Bella. I want to make it good for you. I promise I would make it so good." Now I'm moaning.

"Talk to me. . .please. . .tell me what you would do...and oh, god...please tell me that you're touching yourself, too."

"Yes, baby. I'm stroking myself. . .pretending it's your hot little hand. . ."

"I loved touching you...oh...oh..."

"Oh, my god. . ." I can't even continue because my brain is just set on Bella. Normally I can multi-task, but all senses are focused on hearing the sound of her orgasm. I didn't get the chance in Miami, and I wasn't going to blow it now.

"Edward. . .oh, Edward. . ."

"Fuck, you're coming aren't you? Oh my . . ."

"Ye - ye - yes. . .oh, god. . . Edward. . ." I can her sweet little pants and moans speed up.

"That's it, Bella. . . Yes, baby." I'm biting my thumb trying not crack my phone in a fit of lust. I am memorizing the sounds and wishing I could see her face as her orgasm takes over her body.

"Oh, God...Edward?" Are you still there?

"That was . . .amazing Bella." I'm trying to get my words to make sense.

"You are. . .it was you, Edward. . .you made it amazing."

"I've never done that before. I mean, I really didn't do anything, but I never heard that. . ."

"Me either...you were my first...Edward?"

"Really? You sounded so erotic. Not that I'm suggesting that you do that all of the time. . . I mean that you were so beautiful and sensual."

"I did? I didn't even know what I was saying."

"Every word was perfect."

"You gave me...I mean...you made me...oh, Edward..." Her voice lowers to a whisper, "You made me come. . ."

"So I guess I can only do it from 2,666 miles away."

"I don't think so, Edward."

"What do you mean?"

"I think that it will be different the next time we're together...I think that. . . well, I think that we will be different."

"Yeah, I think it'll be different too. I'm quite sure that you will make those delicious sounds more than once."

She giggles. "But not too different, I hope. I really liked who you were last time. Edward, I don't want to go...but it's really late there. I wish you were here with me...squeezed into my bed."

"I would love to be squeezed into your bed, or you."

"You make me feel so good."

"I want to make you feel even better. Next time. I'm pretty sure your boyfriend won't mind."

"I hope not...Edward? Can I tell you one more thing?"

"Yes, Bella. Anything."

"I'm really happy you're my boyfriend...you have no idea."

"I'm really happy, too. And I miss you. _You_ have no idea. Goodnight, love," I whisper, trying to express my feelings.

Yes, she is my love. There is no doubt.

"Goodnight..."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

My girlfriend is trying to kill me.

But not in an Agatha Christie murder plot sort of way. I know that's pretty tame content as far as mysteries, but when you are seven and actually on the Orient Express, it can be harrowing. Grandmother has a sick sense of humor.

The actual threat I'm referring to is: I'm so constantly and painfully erect I should be in a Cialis clinical trial study. Seriously, I could be in the control group that doesn't take the medication. It could make a good project, but since I'm graduating next week, it is a moot point.

Currently the focus of my thoughts is how Bella, with her sexy voice and bold dialogue, drives me to the point of distraction. I'm very lucky that I already know everything that will be on my finals or I might risk a poor result.

Last week's phone call was the catalyst for my current situation. My foray into phone sex cranked up the sexual tension to epic proportions. The flirty text messages and the emails have me wanting her constantly. I really never found the need to um, take care of myself before, but now it was a daily ritual of washing my DNA down the shower drain. All those samples . . .

I walk next door to Emmett's apartment so we can go to our last soccer game. I'm really going to miss this exercise in male bonding. I was never part of a team, even in elementary school. I was usually the statistician. Plus the exercise was good for my stress levels. Once I start my residency, I'll be lucky to get in a workout. Hopefully it won't just be my forearm and hand.

Emmett is on the phone when he lets me in to his place. He punches the air and hangs up. He has such strange gestures.

"Hell to the yeah, baby! That shit is mine," Emmett nearly shouts at me. I'm rather taken aback by his exuberance. He holds out his fist to me.

"Do you want me to examine your knuckles?" I ask because he's looking at me expectantly.

He sighs, "Fist bump, Edward. It's a form of celebration or greeting."

"So in which manner are you offering me your fist?" I inquire.

Emmett snorts and says, "Seriously, you almost made me forget my news with all your Edwardness. Dude, I got the final interview at FLS. I fly into San Fran on Saturday after finals. My interview is Monday.

"Emmett, that's excellent news!" I lean toward him to shake his hand and he grabs me into a hug. I laugh at his excitement.

"Fuck, yes. I'll be only a short flight from my parents in Washington and I'll be really close to you. I'd hate to have wasted all of grad school befriending your awkward ass only to lose you now. Besides you owe me free doctoring." Emmett gathers his bag so we can go.

"Emmett, I'm sure that you will have full medical benefits with your new job. Inquire at your interview," I say as we get into my car. He mumbles something about a missing funny bone and I resist the urge to correct the inaccuracy.

"Hey, Edward? You know that San Francisco is really close to Stanford. And that's close to Berkeley," he comments as we drive to the field.

"Yes. It's 22.1 miles," I reply.

"Of course it is," he mutters. "Do you think maybe you'd like to accompany me on the trip that will result in you being 22.1 miles away from Stanford instead of say, 2,600 miles away?"

"2,666 miles," I whisper. He smirks because he knows that I have just realized what he's telling me.

"Is there anyone you'd like to visit, Edward? Since you'll be graduating in a week, and have a month off? Maybe a brunette with killer nipples?" Again with the nipples. Well, they are fantastic.

"Um, Emmett? Would you mind if I accompanied you on your trip? I think I need a vacation," I laugh. "I really need some, er, fun and sun."

"Yeah, you are a pale motherfucker."

**A/N**

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	13. Re: Commencement and Cluster Fcks

**A/N**

**Big hugs and kisses to Kassiah for hosting the read along this week. It was amazing. Thanks to everyone who reads this story. We love every review, even though we can't have Edward stuff your box as frequently (he's been very busy studying).**

**Chapter 12**

**Re: Commencement and Cluster-fucks**

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Long Weeks Suck

Dear Edward,

I am taking a break from the incessant studying to send you an email. I have missed talking to you. Honestly, I've just missed you. Period. I was thinking about how important this week is for you and I wish that there was some way that I could be there when you graduate from medical school. Really, I was thinking that I wish Alice could be there, too. I know that she is disappointed that she won't be able to be. It really sucks that we have finals on the same day. I just hope that you know that even though I won't be there, I will be thinking of you all day. (When I'm not taking finals.)

Have you really thought about how much your life is going to change in the next few months? I don't know much about residency, but according to what I've learned from watching Grey's Anatomy, interns really have no life outside the hospital. I mean, they are constantly there sleeping in an on-call room. Or sleeping with _someone_ in an on-call room. I know it's just a TV show and that real life will probably be somewhat different, but I think that the idea is the same. You = surgical intern =no life. (Again, unless you're having sex with another intern in between appendectomies.) I know you wouldn't do that, Edward. I was just thinking that maybe when you do have those few moments free and you find yourself not in the mood to sleep, maybe you can call me…and we can do that thing we did the other night.

That is, if you wanted to.

Because, I assure you…I will.

I have been studying a lot. And I've had a ton of reading to do for finals. I haven't even really had any time to spend with Rosalie. Something is definitely up with her and I can't help but wonder what really happened between her and your friend, Emmett. I don't know if he's shared with you…and I will never ask you to divulge any information. She just hasn't been herself. And by herself, I mean the life of the party and socially active. She has turned into this homebody (like me). I don't mind it, except of course when I am trying to study (or do _other things_) and she wants to be in my room talking. I just want so much for her to be happy like I am now. Oh, and in case you didn't know, Edward. You make me happy. Like ridiculously, over-the-top, feel like listening to bubble-gum pop music happy.

I know that you are extremely busy and stressed right now. I will try to keep this short. I dream about you every night. Also, I'm dreaming a lot more now…especially since I'm getting the full seven hours you suggested. I know you said that eight would be better, but that is nearly impossible. I am trying, though. And you know what? I do feel better. Thank you for being the kind of boyfriend (who happens to be a doctor) that looks out for my best interest.

Adoring you more than the distance that separates us,

Bella

PS

I wore my t-shirt that you sent me. Rosalie said it was gay and Alice said it was sweet, but it doesn't matter what they think.

I know that it's true.

PPS

It fits me perfectly, except it's a little tight in the boob area. I solved that problem by not wearing a bra. It's fine now.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: T-shirt Tease

Dear Bella,

While I'm sorry to hear that you cannot attend my graduation, I know and understand how important your studies are. I hope that reading this email doesn't cause you to be behind in your study schedule (I scheduled time for you in mine). I do wish that you were here, but I realize it is impossible. But rest assured, it won't be long before I can actually touch you, not just visualize your reactions (especially to phone calls – those are especially stimulating).

Talking to you in this new, open manner (sexual in nature) does certain things to me (like make me miss you more and. . .other things). I want to share them with you. I want to do things with you. . .and to you.

Soon, Bella.

I have never watched that TV show you mentioned, but I can assure you that I will not sleep with anyone at the hospital (unless you are visiting, and I think that may be against regulations – let me check). It's true I will be working very hard, but any free time I have - I want it to be with you. I'm pleased that you enjoy emails and texts, because that's probably going to continue once I get to Stanford due to my busy schedule.

I don't dream much at all, but when I do, I dream of you. I'm glad you dream of me, too. It makes me happy that you are sleeping better. I want to make _everything_ better for you.

And you make me happy, too.

Like Beethoven's "Ode to Joy", happy.

Missing you,

Edward

PS I love the visual of you in that t-shirt without the bra. But please save it for my eyes only. Remember what it says. . .

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

**BPOV**

I hang up the phone and I can't contain the girlie squeal that comes from my mouth. I fall back on the bed and cover my face with a pillow so that Rosalie doesn't hear me. I have been talking to Edward for the last hour and as much as I didn't want to stop talking, I know that he needs to sleep. While it may still be early here, it's well after ten on the east coast and tomorrow is a huge day for him. He's graduating…from medical school…and in less than a month the sweetest, hottest man that happens to be a surgeon (and my boyfriend) will be here.

Close to me.

Suddenly, I feel the need to break out into a Carpenter's song where birds are singing and the sun is shining. Yeah, my mom used to make me listen to their music when I was a kid and helping her in the garage with whatever tie-dyed, pottery, rug hooking, hippie fiasco she was working on. I'm emo for a moment because I remember that Karen Carpenter was pretty fucked up in general. I mean, she was singing all these shiny-happy songs while she was basically starving herself. This also reminds me that I'm hungry and should probably eat a granola bar or something.

I walk out into the tiny little kitchen of our apartment and am surprised to find Rosalie and Alice there at the counter. Rosalie is unpacking what appears to be massive amounts of junk food while Alice is taking out a small bottle of alcohol that I have never seen before.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"Well, since finals are over tomorrow," Alice starts. "We thought that we could do a slumber party."

I look to Rose, who is currently putting a handful of M&Ms in her mouth.

"What?" she asks. "I got you Reese's Pieces."

"Really?" I ask excitedly because I love Reese's Pieces almost as much as I love Rose. And I love Rose a lot.

"Oh, I also got you organic tortilla chips and guacamole," she states proudly. "But seriously, Bella. If I have to stand at Whole Foods one more fucking time and listen to some chick describe to me in detail what a mole sauce is and why organic is always better, I will cunt-punch her."

"Feeling violent much, Rose?" Alice asks sweetly making Rosalie laugh again.

"Feeling brave there, pixie?" Rose retorts before turning back to me. "Are you in?"

"Umm…yeah," I say. Because really, what else am I going to do? "I just feel bad. I didn't get anything for the sleepover."

"Well," Alice says. "We were thinking that you could provide us with the entertainment."

"What do you mean?" I ask, giggling. "Like sing for my supper?"

"Trust me," Rose quips. "You would starve if you had to earn your dinner by singing."

"No, Silly," Alice says, walking over to me and wrapping her arm around my waist. "I meant you can provide us with one of the girlie movies from your collection. I hear you like chick-flicks."

"Rose likes them, too."

"I didn't hear about it from Rose," she says with a wink. "He talks about you all the time and now that he knows that we're friends he never shuts up about you. Just the other day he was asking me to tell him if you looked – let me make sure I say this right – satiated."

"He – he asked you that?"

"Yeah…I thought it was weird, too," Alice says.

"Why would he want to know if Bella looked full?" Rosalie interrupts.

Feeling completely mortified and embarrassed, I changed the subject.

"What do we want to watch, ladies?"

"Anything but 'You've Got Mail'," Rose said. "The live version plays every night here in the Starlight room and I'm a little over Tom and Meg."

"Hey, Rose?" I say.

"I know, I know," she responds chuckling. "Bite you."

"Just as long as we're clear."

Fifteen minutes later, I walk from my bedroom in my boxer shorts and my t-shirt from Edward. Rosalie rolls her eyes and Alice beams as they both take in my appearance.

"You're wearing the shirt again? Don't you find it slightly misogynistic that you are wearing something that brands you as a man's piece of property?" Rosalie groans. "Whatever happened to women's liberation or the fucking Ya Ya Sisterhood?"

"Do you even know what the Ya Ya Sisterhood is about?" I ask her.

"Not really," she says. "Why?"

"Well," Alice says, chiming in. "It's about a bunch of women that are friends their whole life and they spend their time smoking and drinking Bloody Marys and carrying on."

"Well, that sounds fantastic!" Rose exclaims. "Let's watch that. Or better yet, let's do that!"

"Do you really think my shirt is misogynistic?" I ask Rose.

"No," Alice says emphatically. "She does not think that. She was just being bitchy. Besides, there isn't sexist bone in Edward's body. I love the shirt and I can't believe he actually sent it to you."

I blush at her words, not because it's shocking that he sent me the shirt, but because there is a lot that would probably surprise Alice about her brother.

"You're changing him."

"I don't want to change him," I tell her truthfully. "I think he's perfect."

"Listen," Rosalie says. "If you guys are going to sit here and talk about Dr. Perfect McDreamy, I am going to eat this entire box of Twinkies by myself and not share with either of you."

"Oh, no you're not!" I say, giggling and trying to take the box from her. "I want one of those."

I open the box and pull out a Twinkie shove the whole thing in my mouth. I am assaulted with the taste of buttery cake and creamy filling. I am so caught up in the yummy goodness, that I don't notice Alice and Rose staring at me wide-eyed and opened-mouthed.

"What?" I ask, licking the remaining cream from my lips.

"Holy shit," Rose says. "No wonder you have a man willing to write you emails from across the fucking country."

"No kidding," Alice agrees, giggling and blushing.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Bella," Rose says. "You just deep throated that Twinkie."

It takes a minute for my sugar-induced euphoria to wear off before I realize what they are talking about, but when it does my entire body flushes with embarrassment and I am mortified.

Before I allow my humiliation to consume me, Alice pulls out the small bottle of liquor that she had before and three shot glasses. I still don't recognize it and I ask her what it is.

"It's Patron."

"Fuck, yes!" Rosalie exclaims.

"I've never had it."

"It's really good tequila," she explains. "You don't need a lot. We're just going to do a couple of shots."

An hour and more than a couple shots later, Rose has gone to bed and Alice and I have made our way into mine. Alice is asleep quickly and even though I'm tired, I can't stop thinking about Edward. Quietly, I slide out of bed, grabbing my phone and I head into the bathroom. I want to hear his voice again, but I know that's impossible. He will definitely be sleeping. I choose to send him an email instead.

Dear Edward,

I cannot tell you how much my life has changed since that crazy night in Miami. I never would have imagined that a trip to the bathroom to "break the seal" would have ever been so fortuitous. Tomorrow you will graduate from medical school and through some karmic credit that I have earned, you will be moving here and will be close to me. But I want you to know that as much as I will adore the physical proximity, you are already close to me, Edward. Closer than anyone in some ways. I wish I could talk to you again before your big day, but even if I couldn't hear your voice, I wanted you to know my thoughts.

Congratulations, baby.

(I hope it's alright that I called you that. I like it when you call me that.)

So much more than Affectionately,

Bella

Sent from my BlackBerry

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

**EPOV**

Just three more days. My college career is nearly over and then I can see my Bella. All of my finals are done and I am just waiting for the graduation ceremony tonight. I wish Alice and Bella could be there, but I understand about their finals ending today.

I walk over to see Emmett to congratulate him since most likely I won't see him tonight. I see that he's packing for our trip to California.

"Hey, Edward. Are you ready for tonight?" he asks as he zips up his garment bag.

"Is that question rhetorical, or do you not think my attire is appropriate? Or is my demeanor inconsistent with that of a doctor?" I ask, because I think I project the image of a graduate.

He shakes his head and mutters, "I should know by now." He continues placing items in his bag. "Did you finish packing for Cali? No, wait, you packed as soon as you got home last week, right?"

"No," I huff. I don't tell him that it was right after I googled the weather for San Francisco. He's entirely too smug.

"Temperature?" he looks at me with a cocked eyebrow.

"Seventy two and clear," I say, begrudgingly. Emmett is too smart. But that is why we can remain friends. Most people cannot handle my personality or lack thereof.

He selects some weather appropriate items and puts them in his bag. "Where's my itinerary? I expected it on Monday."

"I need to speak to Bella, first," I admit. "Whatever she wants to do."

Emmett freezes and stares, "Did you just say 'whatever?' The man who makes corrections to the New England Journal of Medicine for fun? Unbelievable."

"What's so unbelievable? That I want to see my girlfriend?" I stifle a laugh.

"Just you laughing and saying 'whatever' and shit. Next you're going to tell me to chillax or something," Emmett shakes his head and chuckles. "It's not a bad thing, Edward. I'm really happy for you. I'm actually. . . well, jealous," he admits. "You have everything going for you. Your family, your career, Ni- I mean, Bella. . . I'm man enough to admit that I'm ready for that type of stability. C'mon, dude, how long can I be campus lothario? Especially without a campus?" Emmett looks at me with a sadness, a vulnerability I have never seen. My friend looks lonely.

Maybe he can meet a nice girl in California. I know what I want is waiting for me there. I congratulate him on his degree and walk back to my apartment. My parents arrive shortly. I haven't seen them in months, so I am eager to greet them. We barely exchange pleasantries, and my mother is almost in tears and we haven't even left for the ceremony.

"Edward! Oh sweetheart, you look wonderful. Doesn't he look all grown up and handsome in his suit, Carlisle? My little man is a doctor, now like his father." My mother smoothes my collar, and turns away so I don't see the tears. I've seen emotion from my mother before, but this is different.

She's letting go.

I hug her and give her a swift kiss. I also make a note to research "empty nest syndrome" and send my mother the file.

My father claps me on the back and we drive to the ceremony together. We discuss the move, Bella – the monumental changes in my life. My mom may burst with happiness when she hears me speak about Bella. They may have harbored an ill-conceived notion that I was asexual in my adolescent years. Whereas I'm not sharing specific details of my sex-life, I think that they are aware of my hetero status.

We arrive at the campus early, which allows my parents to find good seats. I find my place, and in a short while the ceremony begins. It is long and tedious and just like all of my other graduations. Except that I will not attend school again.

The Chancellor makes a speech, and then announces the keynote speaker as I get a buzzing in my pocket. Who would be texting me right now?

"_**Hey, big brother. I'm really proud of you and so happy that you're moving out west. Also, I totally slept with Bella last night and I might have felt her ass in my sleep. Wanna know how it felt? –A" **_

Alice. Of course she feels the need to mention Bella. And her ass. I mean Bella's ass, of course, not Alice's. That would be wrong.

"_Although that comment is borderline inappropriate, I thank you for the sentiments (about me, not the ass fondling)." _

"_**Now that you're going to be a surgeon, have you reconsidered giving me fake boobs? I'm pretty sure that I could handle at least a C-cup. I'm not that petite. –A" **_

"_You know very well I am not going to do plastics, Alice. And even if I did, I would never go near your breasts (the thought makes me shudder). PS. You are aware that I'm in the middle of my graduation ceremony?"_

"_**Calm down, big brother. BTW, I am totes dating my professor! Don't tell Mom and Dad! *pinkie swear* Oh, one more thing. He's totes hot, but don't stare at his hair. He's really sensitive about it. That's all. -A" **_

What? My baby sister is doing what? I respond after checking on some information.

"_Alice. I've emailed you Berkeley's sexual harassment policy. I won't tell mom and dad but I'm sending an email to our lawyer. Do not delete any messages from this so-called professor. Make copies of all correspondence. Also, I know where you can get a tiny recording device. I can send it Fed-Ex." _

"_**Christ, Edward! We are not going to perform a "sting operation" on my boyfriend. There are other things I'd rather perform on him. -A"**_

God, I hope she is not referring to what I think she is.

"_Alice, we will discuss this at length. And please tell me you are speaking of something non-sexual. I don't want to be ill at my graduation." _

"**Dr. Masen, I miss you and wish that I could be there for your big day. I hope this doesn't sound trite, but I'm really proud of you. And I'm happy you're my BF. xo –B"**

My Bella is texting me. Perfect. It can take my mind from the horror that is Alice's love life. I send her a message.

"_Bella, you are with me in my heart. And you never sound trite. PS. I'm happy you are my girlfriend. (BF means boyfriend, right?)" _

I send another message to Alice.

"_And the term 'boyfriend' is being used loosely I gather? How old is this letch?" _

"_**If I want to engage in a consensual relationship with a fuckhot man who happens to have Muppet-hair, that is my choice. Oh...he's totes young. He's only 27." **_

Why do I need a translator for my sister? I speak four languages. Unfortunately, none of them are Alice compatible.

"_Muppet hair? Are you dating a puppeteer? What do you mean by totes? Is someone carrying something? PLEASE explain this insanity!"_

"_**OMG! We have been texting so long, you must be already finished with you residency. LOL. -A"**_

"_My residency will last for four years. The ceremony is long, though. The keynote speaker is some actor going on and on about some movie he did about the Titanic. It can't have been historically accurate, it wasn't on the History Channel." _

"_**Are you freaking kidding me? If you are telling me that Leo is speaking at your graduation, I am going to kill myself! -A" **_

She really has a flair for the dramatic. Ooh, It's Bella, again.

"_**E, I can't wait until we are together again. I'm counting down the days. While I adore the fact that I am in your heart, I really want to be in your arms. xo –B"**_

I answer Bella immediately, while Alice is rambling about someone named Leo and apparently involved in an illicit affair.

"_Trust me when I say that's all I think about (especially now that I'm not academically occupied). –Edward_

I especially don't want to think about my baby sister and her – shudder – boyfriend.

"**Dude, what row r u in? wave or someshit"**

Now Emmett is texting me. Ugh. I distinctly remember my email requesting that he not use 'text speak'. I glance around for Emmett. I can't see him, but I text him my location.

"_**Fuck, Edward. I'm not Army recon. I left my portable GPS at home. Just fucking count the rows of seats. U don't need to get all "Good Will Hunting" on me and send me fucking equations on how to find U."**_

Ugh. I thought Alice was prone to over-exaggeration. Another text pops up from Bella.

"_**E, I meant other things besides being in your arms. I also think about you being in your bed or in mine. . .or you being inside me again. All my thoughts are of you. Xo, -B"**_

Jesus. Like I need to be rock hard at my graduation. What if my grandmother sees a photo of me? Poor Nana Cullen. Her last lab results weren't very promising.

"_**Edward, your mother wants to know if you want French or Italian for dinner. Text me back- Dad"**_

Seriously, does everyone not realize that I'm at my graduation!

"_**Edward, take a picture of Leo and send it to me. Jazz won't mind. –A"**_

"_**Edward, My mom wants to take a picture of us after the ceremony. Meet me by the front steps of the library. See, clear directions that don't involve the square root of Pi or global positioning – Em"**_

"_**Son? Your mother wants to know if she needs to change the reservations-Dad"**_

I think it's almost time for the Chancellor to announce my name. He's almost done with the Ls. I try to quickly respond to all of the texts while listening for my name.

"_Alice, would you give up your highly inappropriate affair with your professor if I got this Di Caprio fellow's number?"_

"_I prefer French tonight."_

"_Baby, if we were in my bed, what would you do to me?"_

"_Fuck off. 3.14 times."_

Then it's my turn.

"Edward. Anthony. Masen."

I walk up to receive my diploma. I shake the requisite hands, smile, take photos, and I'm a doctor. Finally. Hippocrates would be proud that I fulfilled my pact.

Then, buzz, buzz, buzz in my pocket. I check my phone when I return to my seat.

"_**Edward, I don't know what you mean by that, but I think it's awesome that you're using the word fuck now. -A"**_

Wait. I sent the wrong text.

"_**E, Umm, okay. I'm not sure what that meant, but I hope you were talking about speaking to me in French, or possible French kissing. Either would be hot. xo – B"**_

Well, that wasn't bad. She got somewhat excited by my faux pas.

"_**You amateur. Make sure you pay attention before you sext your girlfriend. What if your mother got that? And turn that shit up a notch, boring motherfucker. -Em"**_

But that means. . .

"**Edward. What on Earth is this about Alice and an affair with her professor?- Dad"**

**A/N:**

**To get an exclusive outtake of LiMB for FGBEclipse, contact the awesome team leader AllyinPerth on Twitter or her alter ego ChampagneAnyone on FF. **

**The amazing Justduckie designed a "I Belong to Edward" t-shirt that is for sale. Proceeds benefit FGB. Find it on Zazzle.**


	14. Re: Flying and Faux Pas

**A/N**

Cosmogirl7181: So, I accept full responsibility for the late update. *hangs head*

Marvar: I can't let you take all the responsibility. We can blame Mr. Cosmo.

Cosmogirl7481: I think Mr. Cosmo might be a little jealous of Forthwithward. And by Fothwithward, I mean my hot wife.

Marvar: Well, I think we interact more than you two do. I know my hubs thinks I'm having a lesbian affair.

Cosmogirl7481: Did he ask if he could film it? Because Mr. Cosmo might have said something along those lines. Like casually...over coffee.

Marvar: *snorts* Yet another fine product we can sell to support FGBEclipse.

**Chapter 13**

**Re: Flying and Faux Pas**

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Recent text disaster

Dear Bella,

I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you very long last night, though the brief time talking to you was the highlight of the evening. Please let me attempt to explain the abject mortification I experienced. While the graduation itself was quite pleasant (the keynote speaker was someone named Leonardo Di Caprio – Alice thought that was significant. He looked unkempt to me and a shave wouldn't have killed him), the aftermath of my communications with several people had caused a moderate rift in my family. I told you about the text message mix-up, right? Well, I sent Alice's text to my father, which mentioned something very personal and not meant for my father's eyes. Needless to say, my father is livid with Alice, and she is not speaking to me. I spent most of my day trying to sort things out to no avail. Alice is. . . well, Alice.

I assume that you didn't have any of the same professors, right? If you did, please let me know so I can inform the right people.

Last night my family tried to avoid the topic, attempting to keep the focus on me, but my father's aggravation seeped through (I am not angry though, because it is my fault). I have, however, sworn off texting unless it is to you (I really like it when you send me messages. You know the kind I enjoy).

I miss you terribly, Bella. I don't think I adequately express how much. I look at your picture constantly; Emmett has caught me several times and made rude comments. I'll spare you because they're not meant for polite company - let's just say he mentioned "lube" and leave it at that. As if I'd need lubricant.

To be honest, I'm a bit afraid of how you will receive me when you see me again. I ask myself if you are as anxious as I am. I hope this whole relationship is real and not a fantasy world I have created. Sometimes you seem too good to be true. These things don't happen to me – "Boring Edward." Do you know that kids used to call me "Nerdward" in school? I would saucily reply that they were jealous of my superior intellect, but it still hurt. I think I still harbor those childhood insecurities. I should research that. My point being: guys like me don't get girls like you. I get. . . well, to be alone and do what Emmett said I was doing to your picture, and you get someone like, well that Di Caprio fellow Alice had a conniption over (still don't get the appeal).

I just really want this to work. You should know that I want you just the way you are.

Perfect. For me.

I hope you accept me – foibles and all.

With adoration,

Your Edward

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: I Love Nerds

Dear Edward,

I am so sorry to hear that your graduation night was filled with family drama. It seems to me that your parents should have been able to put aside the situation with Alice long enough for you to get to celebrate one of the biggest milestones in your life. I'm sorry. I mean no disrespect to your family. It's just that if I had been the one with you…you would have been the center of my attention. Actually, just so we're clear…I'm pretty sure that there wouldn't even need to be an occasion like graduation for you to be the center of my attention.

You already are.

And will continue to be.

I'm glad you haven't sworn off texting me. But when you think about it, neither of us has the best track record when it comes to text. You with your multiple-message mishap and me with the inappropriate message I sent you from Alice's phone. I'm beginning to think that you and I are more MFEO than I ever imagined. Plus, I didn't really mind the French that you spoke to me last night when I got disappointed that your text wasn't actually meant for me.

By the way, Dr. Masen, I want you to know that I looked up what "Je veux etre avec toi" means. And Edward, I want to be with you, too. So much.

Edward, I understand that you are nervous about seeing me again, but I think that you are nervous about the wrong things. And since you asked, I am anxious. I am anxious about what it will be like to feel you hold me now, kiss me now…and well, other things. I have no anxiety about you or what I think it will be like when we are together. I think that it will be perfect…not because we are perfect, but because I think we are perfect for each other. I understand your thoughts about this all being a fantasy, but Edward, I put those thoughts to rest the moment I heard your voice. And while I hope that you fantasize about me…I am not a fantasy. I am real and I am waiting for you to get here. I happened to you. We happened to each other. You said it yourself…fate and magic.

I'm sorry to hear that kids called you "Nerdward" in school. It probably _was_ because you were smarter than them. Kids are pretty much assholes. Does it help you to know that your intellect is one of the things that I find most attractive? Would it make you feel better to know that I get turned on a little every time you tell me something that I didn't know before…or when you use a word like foibles?

I want you, Edward. I want all of you and I want exactly who you are.

Counting the moments until I'm with you again,

Your Bella

PS

Leonardo Di Caprio is short and gross (and also kind of bloated lately). Anyway, he pales in comparison to you. Alice can have him if she wants.

**O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**EPOV**

Finally on the plane. What a nightmare at my parents' house yesterday. My father was cursing and my mother was trying to calm him down. I think I may have pulled out some of my hair with the relentless tugging. At least I don't have "Muppet hair" like Alice's so-called boyfriend. I'll have to ask her if he wears a wig because of Alopecia. There are some great drugs available for that now.

My dad had called Alice this morning and started screaming. I never heard him react that way. He was furious. My mom cried. I paced. He passed the phone to me and I got an earful from my sister. She thought I told my father on purpose. She said that I "don't make mistakes" so I must have wanted to sabotage her relationship. I had to do some self-analysis, but did not find any evidence of a subconscious need to destroy my sister. I will continue to monitor that situation, however. It was not my happiest moment. And actually, I was hoping to create a new one of those on my trip. I have a feeling that all my academic awards will be overshadowed by one weekend with Bella.

After my dad ranted a series of "I knew I shouldn't have let her move across country," and "I'm going to call the Dean," my mom calmed down my father by reminding him that he was her TA in her college bio lab. He sort of shut up after that. But Alice wasn't appeased.

So, she's not speaking to me. I wanted to visit her when I arrived in California, but I guess that was a moot point now. Oh, well. More time with Bella. This seems like an appropriate time to fist bump Emmett, but I refrain.

"Edward, so what the hell happened last night?" Emmett asks when we are safely in the air. I groan and shake my head.

"It was a complete disaster, Emmett. I sent the wrong texts to four people. I have never been so irresponsible before. I have to reexamine my texting protocols. That sort of behavior is unacceptable."

He is laughing and I want to punch him (great, now I have violent tendencies on top of lack of focus). "Dude, everyone sends texts to the wrong people. You are just not used to not being perfect."

I open my mouth to retort, but he is correct. "I tried to repair the damage, but she wouldn't accept my apology," I sigh.

"Bella will forgive you soon," he replies. "She's way fucking into you, judging by the emails I may or may not have read. You must have a way with those awkward words, because you got her to fall for you from across the country."

Fall for me? Did she? Like I fell for her? My mind started calculating the probability of such an event. But I had no numbers. No quantifiable data. Just intense feelings swirling around, tightening my stomach and squeezing my heart (not my actual heart, obviously), the metaphorical one that Cupid slings his arrows into. I'm glad I didn't say that out loud because Emmett would tease me mercilessly for ending my sentence with a preposition.

"Don't worry, bro. She'll forget about the mix-up when she sees your ass at her place." He thinks I'm upset because I haven't responded.

"Alice is the one who's angry. I texted to my dad that she was having an affair with her history professor," I state, still upset with the situation. "She won't talk to me. Bella, um, she sort of liked the text I sent her." I smile at the thought of my Bella. I was going to see her in just 5 hours.

Emmett laughs. "I like her. She's good for you, Ed. You never smiled when you were seeing Jessica."

I frown at the sound of her name. "Yeah, you looked like that most of the time," he says, looking at me. He gets that wistful look, like something is eluding him. He changes the subject abruptly. "So, do you think that I'll, I mean, you'll, talk to her roommate when we get there? You haven't met her yet, huh?"

"No, I just saw her at the bar. Bella talks about her all of the time, and so does Alice. They've become good friends. Why do you ask, Emmett?" I am starting to agree with Bella that Emmett and Rosalie are hiding something. He is just too interested in her.

"Uh, she, um. . ." his statement is interrupted by the flight attendant taking drink orders. She makes sure we are comfortable and have everything we need.

"I think I will send an email to the airlines complementing the fine service. It's almost like we have our own attendant," I comment. Emmett snorts and mumbles something like "fucking clueless to women throwing themselves at him." I wonder why he doesn't speak louder. I make a note that I need to research this.

When we arrive in San Francisco, it is beautiful and sunny - a rarity, according to Google weather. I take this as a positive sign (if I were to believe in such a thing) that I've made a good decision in surprising her. I just didn't want her to lose focus during her finals week. I also thought I was making a romantic gesture like in the movies that I used to watch with Nana Cullen.

After getting my rental car, a silver Volvo (it had the highest safety rating), we check into the hotel and shower and change. I don't want to spread any germs that I picked up on my flight to Bella. I stop to buy flowers for Bella on the way to her place - Cary Grant would do that, right? My anxiety ratcheted up a few notches as we pulled in front of her apartment building.

"Are you sure you want me to go up with you, Edward? What if you want to get freaky with her against the door? I really don't want to see that shit. Well, not you anyway. I'd like to see Ni-" Emmett stops mid-stream, realizing that he has said too much.

"I want you to meet her. She's important. She's . . . everything," I exhale, slowly, erratically, trying to calm myself. I need to see her. . . touch her responsive, rosy flesh. Wind my hands through her long, satiny hair. Kiss her soft, pink mouth. I can't wait any longer. I pause, then I bound up the steps; I don't bother with the elevator. Emmett is lagging behind - cursing, presumably at me, because there is no one else in the stairwell. I doubt if Emmett has an imaginary friend. Not that here's anything wrong with that. I know, I checked.

"Fuck, Edward, you're like part cheetah or some shit. I know you haven't had any in two months, but turn the stealth mode off." He grumbles something like, 'he got a head start,' but I can't be sure and I really don't care. I'm at the door. Her door. I breathe deeply, a cleansing breath, not unlike a woman in labor would take if practicing Lamaze birthing techniques.

I ring the bell, smiling and waiting for my Bella to open the door. I hear the locks disengage and smile impossibly wider. A beautiful, blonde woman opens the door. I know this is Rosalie. I remember her from Miami. She looks stunned, then angry as her eyes flicker to Emmett. I hear Emmett exhale loudly, and her face softens for just a second before she turns red. "What the hell are you doing here?" she hisses.

"I – I came to see Bella," I stammer. "I'm Edward. Masen. Her boyfriend?" I really didn't expect such a response.

She looks horrified and she apologizes, "Oh, Edward. I'm so sorry. I was talking to God's gift to bar sluts over there, not you. I'm Rosalie." She shakes my hand, then seems to change her mind and hugs me.

Emmett makes a sound like he's going to protest, but she shoots him a look that shuts him up.

I feel incrementally better about the situation, but I still haven't seen Bella. "Rosalie, it is a pleasure to meet you, but I really would like to see Bella. Can you tell her I'm here?"

She puts her hand over her mouth and stifles a gasp.

"Edward. She's gone."

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

**BPOV**

As soon as I hit the send button on my email to Edward, I know what I am about to do. And yeah, I know it's crazy. But everything about us has been crazy so far. From the South Beach bar . . . to the 'one night stand'. . . to the emails. _Oh, the emails._ I think I might just be falling in love with Edward Masen. Fuck, I think that _maybe_ I am _already_ in love with him. And yes, I know that's crazy, but once again I refer to the list of crazy that I've just spouted off in my head.

_Shut the fuck up, Bella._

_You're not in love with him._

_Yet._

I don't think I can wait another three weeks to be with him. And why should I have to? He has graduated and I am through with finals. I want to be with him. I need to see him and kiss him and maybe do some of the things that we have boldly spoken about in the last couple weeks. I want to be with Edward…in every sense of the word. I want to hold his hand and kiss his lips when I don't reek of scotch and taste like Jack Daniels. I wonder briefly if I've been drinking too much lately. I mean, there seems to have been an awful lot of alcohol in my system in the last couple months. But then I think that alcohol was what brought me to Edward and it was also what caused me to send him the highly inappropriate text message that led to us having our first actual conversation on the phone. So, yeah…maybe I should order a drink at the airport bar.

_I'm going to do this._

_I'm going to fly to New Hampshire to see Edward._

I look at one of the pictures that Alice gave me of Edward that I have on my nightstand. He is smiling in this picture and, like an idiot, I want to kiss it…no, I want to kiss him. I want to kiss Edward and I don't want to wait three more weeks to do it!With that thought, I open the door to my closet and pull out my purple Hello Kitty suitcase and I start packing.

This is crazy.

Yes, this is definitely crazy!

I haven't told a soul where I am going, but as I hand over my bag to be checked, I don't care. The girl behind the counter is staring at my suitcase like it's stupid and I momentarily want to say something to her about not being a pretentious and judgmental bitch and that Hello Kitty is iconic like Audrey Hepburn, but I hold my tongue. I don't want to end up in New Hampshire with no clothes…wait; maybe I can say something to this bitch after all.

_I'm sorry, Edward. I have no clothes._

When I finally land in New Hampshire, I am slightly tired. One thought about the fact that I will see Edward soon is enough to perk me up. I realize that I still have my phone turned off, so I pull it from my bag and turn it on. I am pleased to see that there are no new text messages. I wonder what Rosalie is doing. Usually she would have called or texted me by now. I scroll down the list and find Edward's name and with butterflies in my stomach, I call him. I wonder what he will say when he answers. Surely, he'll be excited that I'm here. I can't wait to hear his voice. I don't get a chance to find out because the call goes straight to voicemail. I have a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I push it aside. He is probably just in the shower.

_Mmm…in the shower._

Thirty minutes later, I am sitting in a plastic chair with my suitcase in front of me. Edward still hasn't answered the phone and I realize that I am across the fucking country and that I am alone. I don't know where he lives and I am stuck here in this airport. I begin to panic. I decide to call Alice to see if she knows where he is. My hands are kind of trembling and I don't know if it's because I'm nervous or if it's because I'm hungry. The truth is that I'm both.

"Bella!" she says as she answers her phone. "What's going on?"

"Umm…" I start. "Have you heard from your brother?"

"No," she replies, "but I'm really not speaking to him at the moment. Who the fuck doesn't know how to send a simple text message? My parents are furious and it's all Edward's fault. I told him not to tell anyone and what's the first thing that he does? He sends a text message straight to my father!"

"Alice," I interrupt her. "Listen to me. Do you know where Edward is?"

"You mean he didn't tell you?" she asks. "It's all or nothing with him, isn't it. He tells one person too much and not enough to the other."

"Alice, what are you talking about?" I ask, growing more and more nervous by the minute.

"Edward went away with Emmett this weekend, Bella. I can't believe that he didn't tell you," she says.

Fuck my life.

My mind is spinning at this new information. I have flown across the country, only to find out that Edward isn't here. He's on some trip with Emmett. And I want to be mad at him, really I do, but this is my own fault because I make stupid decisions. I am everything that my parents say that I am. I am flighty and impetuous and I don't think things through before I make decisions. I feel my bottom lip quivering and then a hot tear fall down my cheek.

"Bella, Bella, are you there?" I hear Alice ask.

"Yes. I'm here…there…here," I say stupidly and I know that she can hear the tears in my voice.

"What's going on, Bella? What do you mean?"

I tell Alice the story and before I know what happening, she has handled everything. She has called the airline and changed my flight home. They are able to book me on a flight tonight, but I will be stuck here in this stupid airport for four more hours. I tell Alice thank you for helping me and she tells me that even though she is pissed at her brother, she knows that he would be so disappointed that he wasn't here to see me. I tell her that I know and ask her to tell him to call me if she hears from him. She reluctantly agrees to take his call, but stipulates that she still reserves the right to be pissed.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**EPOV**

What the fuck just happened? Did I just fly five hours to California to see my girlfriend for the first time in two months, and she's not there? And am I permanently peppering my speech with expletives now? Sadly, the answer is yes to both questions.

Rosalie grabs my hand and says, "I'm sorry, Edward. She left earlier. I guess she went to see her mother and father. Why don't you come in for a bit?" She pulls me into the apartment. She motions to Emmett that he can come in, too - begrudgingly.

I still can't respond. I look around frantically, desperately hoping Rosalie is mistaken. This is not helping. I'm reminded of her beauty, the same beauty I mistakenly thought I would be enjoying up close and personal. Bella is everywhere. Bella and Rosalie. Bella and her family. Me.

Me? How did she. . .Alice. That was her favorite picture of me. She took it herself. I'm staring at myself, framed, in Bella's home.

"She can't stop looking at that photo of you, Edward," Rosalie remarks.

Suddenly, I'm overwhelmed with emotion. Emmett moves toward me and puts his arm across my shoulders.

"Hey, Edward. I know you are bummed, but just remember you're moving here soon. It's really nice for her that she went to see her folks," Emmett offers, trying to reassure me. Rosalie looks at him, but her scowl is gone. It's replaced by. . .wonder?

I appreciate his effort, but nothing he can say short of "oh, look, Bella just got here," is going to matter. "I'm going home, Emmett. If she's not here, then there's nothing."

I sit on the plane thinking about what just happened. I am the world's biggest moron, no matter what my recent _Stanford-Binet_ scores say. Not even the standard deviation can account for this discrepancy. All I had to do was tell her I was coming. But no, I had to surprise her. Well, surprise, Edward. You are alone again.

Emmett tried to persuade me to stay, but I just couldn't. He drove me to the airport, and now I'm in my ninth hour of flight today. I'm watching some horrible remake of _Alice in Wonderland._ Surely Lewis Carroll is rolling over in his grave. But not even this drivel can take my mind off of my colossal mistake. Not even looking for errors in my medical journals is interesting right now.

I think back to when I saw my photo in her house. I wonder if she looks at my photo as much as I did hers. I wonder if she feels. . .like I do. I keep wondering because I can't ask her. Fuck. Who cares if I curse? I'm quite incensed. "Shucks" is just not adequate to convey the anger I feel.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**BPOV**

I decide that I definitely need a drink, so I head to a bar in the airport. While I am waiting on the bartender to make my Jack and Diet Coke, another girl sits down beside me. She is blondish. And by 'blondish,' I mean that you can tell that blonde is the color she was going for, but she really needs to get her roots done. She smiles at me before pulling a compact mirror from her purse and starts to _literally_ powder her nose. I have to force myself not to laugh out loud because who the fuck does that?

_Go to the bathroom, Barbie. They have bigger mirrors in there. _

She smells like cheap perfume. You know the kind – all super-sweet and sickening. It probably came in a pink bottle with a picture of Paris Hilton or Britney Spears on it. I wonder momentarily why anyone would want to smell like a whore that fell into cotton-candy machine, but _clearly_, that is exactly the fragrance that she is going for.

I try to figure out how I can move away from her, but the bar is really tiny and the rest of the barstools are taken. I'm definitely not leaving – not if I have to be stuck here for another three hours and forty-five minutes. The bartender brings me my drink and I decide that the smell of whiskey is (almost) stronger than her perfume, so I decide that I can hug it out.

_I am so wrong._

I should have left because as soon as I take a drink, she starts talking to me.

"Airports suck."

_Obviously, she is a stellar conversationalist._

"Yeah, they do," I agree lamely.

"I mean, they don't even have champagne in this place."

"Well, they don't really want to serve any celebratory liquor since they know the place sucks and all," I tell her sarcastically. "If you really like champagne, maybe you should audition to be on _The Bachelor_. They are always drinking champagne on that show."

_You seem like just the kind of woman that those douche-bags are always giving roses to._

I don't watch _The Bachelor_, but Rose does so that she can make fun of all the stupid women on the show. Which, I have to say, is really kind of funny. I miss Rose right now and I wish that she was sitting here with me instead of this girl. I take another drink and try not to let the irritating sound of her voice bother me too much.

"That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me!" she exclaims.

I have to think about what I've said because I _know_ I didn't say anything nice.

"You really think I could be on _The Bachelor_?"

"Do you _want_ to be on _The Bachelor_?" I ask before I can stop myself.

I feel bad for being such a bitch, because my pissy mood has nothing to do with this girl. (Well, the perfume isn't helping my mood, but how was she to know that she would be sitting next to a normal girl and not a pimp?) Fuck, now I feel bad for thinking of her as a whore in my mind. She is stuck in the airport just like me…and I am stuck here because I am a dumbass. Yes, I am a dumbass that doesn't think that she should tell her boyfriend that she is flying out to see him before she gets on a fucking plane and flies five hours across the country. Dumbass is definitely worse than whore. At least whores get to have sex.

_Stop thinking of her as a whore, Bella._

_She could be a completely lovely girl with unfortunate taste in perfume…and TV shows._

"I would love to be on that show," she tells me. "I need a new boyfriend...one that isn't a loser."

"I'm sorry," I offer genuinely. "Did you just go through a break-up?"

"Oh, God no!" she exclaims. "I dumped his ass a long time ago. I've just been playing the field."

"Why did you dump him?" I ask, cursing my own stupid curiosity.

"Well," she begins and places her finger on her chin and I notice that her nails are fake…just like her hair. "He wasn't good in bed, but he was so damn fine. That is until he opened his mouth. If I could have just looked at him while he didn't speak, it would have been great."

As she speaks, I realize that I may hate someone that I barely know. And once again, I feel bad. But she continues speaking.

"He is a medical student, you know. So, he is going to be a doctor. I thought that I could hold out for that. I mean, who doesn't want to date a doctor? Especially a hot doctor with bronze sex-hair and fuck-me eyes. Even if he wasn't good at the sexy or the fucking part."

At her words, I am enraged. And I don't get angry. Ever. But right now, I want to reach across the bar and pull her bleached-blonde hair out because I realize that she is talking about Edward…_my Edward_. And nobody – _especially not this little bitch_ – is going to talk about him like this.

"Listen," I say sweetly, channeling Rose. "You couldn't possibly be named Jessica, could you?"

"Oh, my god!" she exclaims. "I don't even remember telling you my name."

_Christ, she's stupid. How did he ever date her?_

"You didn't," I tell her. "I've just…umm…heard about you."

"Oh, are we in class together?"

"No…we don't share a class, but we do have something in common."

"What?" she asks. "Like the same shoe size?"

I shake my head because she is truly the most stupid woman I have ever encountered. I am questioning what it is that Edward could have seen in her when I remember his words about how she made him feel. _She_ made him feel like _he_ was inferior and that he wasn't good with girls. I lift my glass to my mouth and swallow the rest of my drink in one gulp and I turn on my stool so that I am facing her.

"Jessica, was your ex-boyfriend's name Edward?"

A look of shock crosses her face.

"You know everything!" she exclaims in a loud, shrill voice. "How do you know that?"

"Well, because my boyfriend's name is Edward," I tell her. "What are the odds that they're the same person?"

Her eyes are big and open and she looks confused.

"I don't know. What _are_ the odds?"

_Oh. My. God._

Something from deep within me makes me want to tell her what a stupid bitch she really is, but I don't know if I know any words that are small enough for her to understand.

"Pretty good, I'm thinking," I tell her sarcastically. "You're Jessica, the ex-girlfriend that broke up with him and told him that he didn't have any game. Does that sound familiar?"

Wow, realization seems to dawn on her face. I'm surprised by her perception. I laugh a little because she probably doesn't even know what perception means.

"_You_ are dating Edward?" she asks. "Why?"

"Well, let me tell you why. Because he's sweet and smart and what was it that you called him? Oh, yeah. A hot doctor with sex hair and fuck-me eyes."

My voice is raised slightly and I suck in a breath. When I speak again, my voice is lower.

"I can't believe that you would ever break-up with him because, really…he's amazing. Don't get me wrong, sweetie. I'm happy that you did, but I just thought that maybe you should know…that was a _huge_ mistake on your part. He's remarkable, truly. You said that he wasn't good at sex," I tell her, snorting. "Well, let me tell you…he can make me come with his _words_. _Just his words_." It's the truth, so I don't even feel bad about saying it. "So, you can only imagine what he can do with his…well, you know. You've seen it."

She doesn't need to know that she has seen it more times than me. And quite honestly, I don't really want to think about her having sex with my boyfriend. Even if it was bad sex. And then it dawns on me. I don't want to ever think about him with anyone else. . ._ever_. Because he's mine and I think that maybe. . .just maybe. . ._am I_?

"I guess what I'm trying to say to you is…thank you. If you hadn't done those things, I never would have met him and he would probably still be with you having an allergy attack from your stupid perfume. You should check out something that isn't marketed to twelve year-old girls. And you're in the perfect place. It's duty-free in the airport."

I don't wait for her to say anything. I just pull some money from my pocket and put it on the counter. I pick up Hello Kitty and I walk out of the bar. I think that I should feel bad for saying the things that I said, but I don't. He might not be here, but he is _my_ Edward and I just can't feel bad about defending him to that stupid (and by stupid, I mean _really, fucking stupid_) bitch.

**Oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**EPOV**

When my plane lands, I gather my bag and walk slowly through the tunnel. I pass through the doors, utterly defeated. I just want to go home and forget this day ever happened, but I keep thinking about. . .her. In front of me a couple is embracing, their joy apparent in their reunion. It is like salt pouring into my wounds and I look away.

I see long, brown hair from afar and I mutter 'Bella.' Now I'm delusional. I blink to clear my head as the head that the brown hair is attached to, turns to face me.

Oh. That is a very unattractive man. But who am I to judge?

I pass the other gates because, of course, my plane arrived at the last one. And then. . . it's her. Not in my mind, not a photo, not words in print.

"Bella!" I yell across the terminal. Her head snaps up and her eyes widen at the sight of me. They are slightly red and puffy but amazingly beautiful. She must have been crying. She jumps up and runs toward me. I freeze, not knowing what she's doing. Her arms capture me first, flinging around my shoulders and grasping my neck while her body slams against me a split-second later, legs wrapping around my waist. Instinctively, I grasp her securely around her bottom.

I'm still frozen, as I'm sure this is a hallucination brought on by my desperate need to be with her. She is a mirage and I am lost in the Sahara without food or drink. Then the vision speaks, "Edward! You're here. I can't believe you're here!"

At the sound of her voice, I know this is real. She's in my arms, well, actually completely wrapped around me, but now I know that this is where she belongs. I actually know much more than that. I know what those feelings are now, the ones that I never felt before and couldn't explain. And I am overwhelmed with the need to tell her. Her face is tucked under my chin, her lips placing feathery kisses along my jaw, and I don't want it to stop. But I want to see her when I tell her. I pull back, stopping her momentarily. The way she looks at me lets me know that this is right. I try not to be rendered speechless by the emotion in her eyes.

"I'm here. And. . . I love you, Bella."

"Oh, Edward. . .I – I love you, too."

**End Notes:**

Thank you for all of the reviews. We read and cherish every single one. It's been very difficult to respond, so we can't promise Edward in your box (but one can hope).

LiMB is up for a Twilight All Human Award for "The fanfiction that had you crying with laughter." Go vote. Thank you to whoever nominated us.

To bid on LiMB for FGBEclipse, contact AllyinPerth on Twitter or ChampagneAnyone on ff. She is the team captain.

Check out the 'I Belong to Edward' shirt on Zazzle, created by the wonderful justduckie.

Follow us on Twitter: Cosmogirl7481 and Marvar29 or Forthwithward and xoDizzyBella69


	15. Re: Cross country Coitus

A/N:

We're just going to STFU so you can read.

**Chapter 14**

**Re: Cross-country Coitus**

**BPOV**

"Bella!"

I hear my name and I swear to god it sounds like him. My head snaps up and I look across the terminal and it's him. Edward. He's here! My body reacts without any thought from my mind and I am running. Not just running, but running to him.

People must think that I am crazy, but I don't care because it's Edward. My Edward. My body slams into his and my arms are around his neck and then my legs wrap around his waist. Before I can worry that I have just made a complete and total fool of myself, his arms are wrapped around me, holding me securely against him.

This is right.

This is where I'm supposed to be.

Well, maybe not here in front of everyone in this airport, but I don't give a fuck about them. I only care about the man that is here, holding me in his arms. It is with that thought that I know.

I know.

Not possibly…not maybe. Definitely.

"Edward! You're here!" I say more to myself than him. "I can't believe you're here."

I am in love with him and with that understanding, I am kissing him - his neck and jaw and I want his lips, but this will do for now. He pulls back and for just a second, I miss the feeling of his skin against my lips, but this means that I can look at him…see him.

"I'm here," he says. "And…I love you, Bella."

"Oh, Edward…I – I love you, too."

He looks at me and his eyes are filled with every emotion that I'm feeling and I want to kiss him…to really kiss him, but before I can, he is speaking.

"I'd wait forever to hear you say that. But I'm glad I didn't have to."

His lips press into mine and there is no apprehension, no questioning or self-doubt. This isn't our first kiss, but it is definitely the first time that anyone has ever kissed me like this. I open my mouth to him and his tongue slides against mine and he tastes like peppermint and happiness.

"I love you," I whisper again, saying it first this time because I want him to know that I really do. These are my feelings and I feel this way because of him. And then all of my thoughts and feelings pour out of me with no filter or pause. "I love you and I know it's crazy, but you're here and you love me, too. You just said you loved me. And I didn't think you would be here. I wanted to surprise you, but then Alice told me that you were out of town with Emmett and I thought I'd flown all the way here to be with you only to have to turn around and go home again. And I was so sad and so…just so stupid. But now you're here and it's just like you said before, Edward. This is fate…and by some kind of magic that I don't understand, you're here now…with me. We're here together."

"Together," he whispers as he looks into my eyes. "You and me. This is all I've wanted since the moment I touched you. . . inhaled you. . . tasted your mouth, your skin."

He runs his nose from the dip of my collarbone to behind my ear where he finally places a small, soft kiss. My entire body tingles from his kiss...his words...and I wonder where the shy, awkward medical student I fell in love with went. He has been replaced by this confident and sexy...man. Yes, he's a man and I think...I hope that has something to do with me...with us...together.

"I'm here, Bella," he says into my hair. "I'm here and I just can't let you go. Please stay."

"You thought I was going somewhere, Edward?"

"Come home with me, Bella."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

We pull up to his apartment and it's as if the dark sky opens up. It's pouring rain. I briefly wonder if god is crying because she's so happy that I am here with Edward. In fact, this is what seals the theory for me. There is no way that a man would cry because I am here with the perfect man. Perfect…and here. He is here with me and I am here with him.

Yeah. God is definitely a woman.

A woman that wants me to be happy.

And I am.

I look over at him and when I do, I find that he is looking at me. Not looking. Staring. He is staring at me intently…almost like he can't believe that I am here. A wave of emotion floods over me like the rain because I realize that he is feeling the same thing that I am feeling. We are on the same page…in the same place…sharing the same space. A really small space that makes it really easy for me to smell him. And he smells wonderful. I'm pretty sure I want to lick him to see if he tastes like he smells. I'll bet he tastes better. I know he does. I close my eyes to enjoy the memory of his taste, but the sound of his voice brings me from my almost-memory.

"It's raining."

"It is," I agree with him. "I love the rain…especially in the summer. It always smells so good."

This makes me think of how good he smells and suddenly, I want to be closer to him…and I don't want this fucking console between us anymore.

"I think we can make a run for it," I say softly, but I hope he can sense the underlying excitement in my voice.

"I don't mind getting wet with you, Bella," he says and a huge smile spreads across my face.

"Okay."

And with that, I am out of the car and running toward his building. I expect him to be beside me, but as I turn to look, I see that he is pulling the luggage from the car. He retrieves it quickly and before I know it, he is next to me and we are standing at the door to his apartment.

"I'm sorry if I left a mess," he explains nervously. "I didn't know that I would have company."

We walk into his apartment and though he was concerned that it would be a mess, there was absolutely nothing out of place. It is almost as if no one lives here. He takes the luggage and places it beside a door.

Dear, God. Please let that be his bedroom door.

The only thing that can keep me from thinking about his bedroom is the fact that he is standing there in front of me…wet from the rain. His grey t-shirt is hugging his chest and stomach and I swear, I can see the outline of his abs and his pectoral muscles through the drenched, clinging cotton. And fuck me, he's beautiful. His bronze hair is shades darker from being wet and it's falling slightly in his eyes. My eyes are about to drop lower when I realize that he is speaking. Oh, God! He's talking and I didn't hear what he said.

"Wha-What?" I say lamely and I wait for him to realize what an idiot I am.

"So this is my place. Please excuse the disorder; I left in a hurry."

"There's nothing out of order," I say walking slowly toward him.

"I left my tie on the chair because I was in a hurry after graduation."

I tear my eyes away from him long enough to see the tie he's pointing out and my mind wonders to the thought of Edward in a suit. Maybe a grey one with a fitted jacket and tight little pants that cup his perfect…

Fuck. Focus Bella!

He is standing here in front of me…wet and perfect and right here. I look back up at him and he's licking the water from his lips.

I can do that for you.

"It's fine, Edward," I tell him, smiling shyly. "It's just a tie."

"You're all wet," he says in a low voice.

"You, too."

We both giggle nervously and I want to close the distance between us. Just as I'm about to move forward, he speaks again.

"You probably want to take a shower," he says. "Wet denim can cause chafing and I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Umm…yeah…umm, a shower."

Jesus! Can I please form a sentence that doesn't make me sound stupid?

"It's right in here," he says, opening the door to his bedroom. "I think you'll find the water pressure sufficient, but you shouldn't shower with water that's too hot. Hot water can dry the skin by removing the essential oils, thus making it scaly and prone to itching. And I wouldn't want you to burn yourself, Bella. Your skin is so beautiful."

I love him.

"O-Okay," I whisper.

I follow him into his bedroom and I force myself not to look at his bed for fear that I will jump him right here, but I catch the color of his duvet and it's blue. I don't know why, but it seems to suit him.

"The bathroom is right in here," he says nervously as he opens the door.

"I…umm…well, I need my overnight bag," I say. "My shampoo and stuff is in there."

"Of course you do," he tells me.

He walks over to get it and he takes it into the bathroom and places it on the counter. I follow in behind him and it strikes me that we haven't really touched since we got here. We haven't really touched much since the airport. Even in the car he didn't hold my hand because his hands were placed firmly on the ten and two position on the steering wheel.

He turns back around and he's close…so close. And his shirt is still clinging to him and I want to reach out and touch him. I wonder if he's as nervous as me, but before I can think about it too much, he reaches out and touches my cheek with his hand. My entire body warms at his touch.

"I've wanted to do that since I saw you at the airport."

Once the door is closed behind him, I take my shampoo and body wash from my bag and place it in the shower. I turn on the water to let it warm up. And I begin to strip myself of the wet clothes. I hope he has a washer and dryer. I am slipping off my bra when the door opens up and I scream without thinking.

Edward is standing there with a stack of towels and I cover my bare breasts with my hands. He apologizes profusely, explaining that the linen closet was in the hallway and that he thought I was already in the shower. He looks down, clearly embarrassed that he has walked in on me while I was undressing. He places the towels on the counter and I don't want him to go. I want him to stay…here with me…in his shower. I can be bold. I need to be bold.

"Edward," I say, my voice smaller than I want it to be. "You can…well…you can stay. If you want."

"I- I- want," he answers; his voice low and rough.

He closes the door and turns back to me and I drop my hands…exposing my breasts to him. I hear him take a deep breath, but he closes the distance between us and is standing directly in front of me. My fingers find the hem of his wet t-shirt and I push it up as he raises his hands allowing me to peel the wet fabric from his body. It's my turn to gasp now as I stand there looking at his perfect body.

"Are you sure?" he whispers.

"Yes."

Remembering what happened the last time I was in wet skinny jeans, I begin to take my pants off and he follows my lead. Edward keeps his eyes trained on mine instead of my naked body. His gaze is intense and I can tell that his elevated breathing matches my own. God, I want him to touch me. I also want him to tell me he loves me again because it was the happiest moment of my life when he said it before, but I can wait…I think.

"You're beautiful. Every part of you. . ."

I step in the shower and my body is warmed by the heat of the spraying water. It is heated even more when I feel him pressed up behind me. His arms circle around my waist and he whispers in my ear.

"Is this okay?"

I tell him yes, but I press myself against him for extra confirmation. I feel his very prominent and very hard…cock pressing into my lower back. I moan without thinking and I fear that I sound stupid, but he seems to like it. His hands start to work their way lightly up my ribs until they were at the bottom of the swell of my breasts and then he stops.

"What about this?" he whispers, his voice a little lower and shakier than before. "Is this okay?"

The feeling of his hands almost on my breasts is too much and I can't even speak. All I do is nod my head in affirmation because fuck yes, this is okay.

His hands are fully cupping my breasts now as the steaming water covers us and I hear him whisper my name and it's overwhelming. It's too much and I want to see him…need to see him. I turn in his arms and I lift my eyes to look at him and when I do, his green eyes that are so much more vivid than my memory are staring down at me.

"You're so beautiful, Bella."

He leans down and kisses me and this kiss is more confident…more knowing than the kiss in the airport. I taste the water as my mouth opens to him and he presses his tongue into my mouth and I moan. He asks if I'm okay and I suck in his words because I've never been this okay before. His mouth trails down my neck and I feel him inching toward my breasts before he whispers into my cleavage.

"Is this okay?"

My nipples have hardened in response almost as if they are telling him that it is. He takes one into his mouth and he is sucking…and it's perfect. It becomes more perfect as his hand cups my other breast, running his thumb across my nipple. It feels so good and I wonder what kind of studying he has been doing because this time, he is so much more confident.

My hand reaches down between us and I take him in my hand…and oh my fuck, he is so hard and just as big as I remember. Maybe even bigger. I can't tell, but I feel my sex clench in anticipation.

He is going to be inside me.

He is the one to moan around my breast this time as I squeeze him and the sound is so fucking sexy. I love that I am the one to make him sound like that. I am the one to make him feel good.

"Bella," he murmurs against me. "I want…ca-can I touch you?"

Once again, I nod my head because clearly, I am an idiot that cannot form a sentence.

"I want," he says, looking at me. "I – I want to make you…c-come."

I moan loudly at his words because I am horny and his words sounded so, so sexy and well, he sounded in control. Edward becomes methodical at this point. He is on a mission. He reaches down, removing my hand from his…cock and he wraps my arms around his neck.

"Can you lift your leg, Bella?" he asks. "Can you lift it and put it on the side of the tub? Will you be able to stand?"

"Ye-yes," I tell him.

I do as he says and I look back up at him.

"Hold on to me," he says. "Don't let go."

"Okay."

He kisses me once more and I feel his hand trailing down between my legs that are now parted for him.

Oh, God…he's going to touch me there.

Thank you god…goddess…whatever you want to be called.

Thank you.

With his eyes never leaving mine, his hand slips down between us and his middle finger slips between my bare lips. He strokes me softly at first and then he speaks again.

"I'm going to push my finger inside you now, Bella."

I don't know why, but him telling me what he is going to do is just about the sexiest fucking thing ever. And I continue to think that until I feel his finger actually push inside me. Nothing is sexier than that.

"Oh, God," I moan loudly and it echoes in the shower.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes!"

He begins to pump his finger in and out and he tells me he's going to add another finger. My body responds with a surge of moisture that I'm sure is covering his whole hand.

Please, Edward…talk to me some more.

"I'm going to add some stimulation with my thumb."

Fuck, yes!

I feel his thumb circle my clit and I am full on moaning now and I want to thank him for whatever he has done that has taught him to do this.

"Does it still feel good?"

I shake my head in case the sounds I'm making aren't affirmation enough.

"Hold on, Bella," he says lowly and roughly. "Don't let go."

"I won't," I manage to force out.

Edward begins to push harder and I feel him twisting his fingers inside me. My legs are weak and I am clinging to him and I realize that Edward has thought all of this through…right down to how I should hold onto him. And if the way he is touching me and making me feel isn't enough…the thought of him wanting this time to be perfect for me makes me fall even more in love with him.

I feel my orgasm approaching and I am whimpering and crying out against his neck when I feel him push deep inside me once more as his fingers curl up and fuck me…he hits the fucking spot! The spot that I thought was mythological until now! But it's not and I as come all over his hand and I scream out his name, I think it wouldn't surprise me to see fucking Zeus and Aphrodite behind the shower curtain.

My legs are weak and feel like they are made of jelly, but of course, Edward has thought about this and tells me to continue holding onto him. He turns off the shower and looks down at me and he tells me he loves me again. And he's so sweet and so perfect and I just know that he is the one.

"I love you, too," I whisper. "I love you, Edward."

EPOV

Damn. I'm actually good. I usually only say that when it comes to academics, or music and not, well, coming. That G-spot research was spot on. Literally. Bella's cries of pleasure in the shower have made me swell with pride. Swell. If I were Emmett, that would be funny.

We are dry now, well, I am, because Bella is positively drenched. . . there - when I touch her again. That makes me insane with want and I need to get her to my bed. Now. She emits a little cry when I rub my finger - testing - and I'm quite sure that's my signal that she feels like I do. Amorous. No, horny as hell.

"Please, Edward. . ." she whimpers. "Your bed. . ." Who am I to argue? I wrap my arms around her and lift her up, her legs hooking around my waist. I'm kissing her neck, her chest, wherever I can reach because I want to devour every inch of her skin and swallow the flavor of Bella. I stop at the edge of the bed and she slides down rubbing against me. She reaches down between us to grasp me; I grow harder, longer, when I didn't think it was possible.

"Fuck," she whispers. "It's so. . .so. . .oh, God. Edward, really. . .you're so big."

"I'll go really slow, Bella. I would never hurt you," I say softly.

She lies down on my bed, pulling me with her. I'm hovering over her, taking in every curve and dip, memorizing. . .She's gazing at me and I can see the love in her eyes laced with a hunger, the same desire she must see in mine. It must be love because I've never seen anyone give me that look. . .no one has ever loved me. . . wanted me. But she does. My heart fills and soars with this thought. I hope I am conveying my love and adoration to her because she needs to know what she does to me and how I feel. "Bella, your beauty is indescribable. I don't have the words. . ." I lean down and press my lips to her heart, hoping she doesn't think I'm a complete babbling fool. I would like to appear as if I know what I'm doing. "I just. . .love you."

Her fingers trace my pectoral muscles lightly and she says, "You are, Edward. . .you're the one that's beautiful and. . .and. . ."

I realize I'm basically just staring and talking and that's probably not the best foreplay. She's not going to come from just my words. I begin kissing her again, tasting her tongue - which is sweet and ripe like a peach. Her mouth is eager and she's moving underneath me, reaching for me...Yes. Her fingers brush against my length, teasing me. I'm overwhelmed and I freeze. What do I do next? Oh, right. My lips seek her nipple, taut and warm and firm and I gently flick my tongue over the pink tip. "Do you like that, Bella?' I whisper. I reach for the other breast, cupping it, swirling my thumb around the sensitive flesh.

"God, yes," she groans. I smile against her, continuing to lick and suck around her areolae. I want to read the journal it writes after all this action.

I lower myself, slowly, carefully, gliding over her heat. I watch the motion of our bodies as I'm rubbing myself against her and it's almost too much and I'm not even inside of her yet. No way I'm going to finish before her this time, so I grit my teeth and focus on her. "Is this what. . . do you want this. . . like I do? Because. . .I desperately want to make love to you." My fingers between her bare lips tell me she's physically ready, but I want verbal confirmation.

"I. . .I want it so much, Edward," she says. "More than anything." Thank god she feels the same way. I need to connect with her, show her how much I want this. And I really, really want to make love to my girlfriend.

I reach over to the nightstand drawer to pull out a condom, which I roll on quickly. I'm kneeling over her and she's watching everything. "I love watching you do that. It makes me - so. . it's so hot." Her lips are parted as she stares at my erection; my hand running up and down my shaft. I don't need to get harder; I'm about to explode if she doesn't touch me soon.

"If you want me to stop at anytime, Bella, please tell me." She nods and makes a sound, which makes my cock throb. I can't wait. . . I whisper I love her before I cover her mouth with mine and I slowly push into her, gently spreading her open for me. . .moaning against her lips. "It's. . .oh. . .Bella. . . you feel so amazing . . .god, you're so tight. . . I can feel you squeezing me," I pant against her, slowly rocking my hips, trying to hit that spot that will make her yell my name. "Is this ok, Bella? Am I making it good? Tell me, please, baby."

Please don't come yet, Edward. Make it last this time. Focus on Bella. She comes first. No pun intended.

"Oh. . .oh, Edward," she whimpered. "It-It's...oh, it's so good. . .so much." Her legs are wrapped around me and I pull them higher to get a better angle (90 degrees, more or less). Damn, the book was so right. I'm going to order the next one in the series.

"Is it too much, baby? Because I'm giving it all to you. . .I want you to feel all of me this time." My hips punctuate my words - pivoting, swiveling, going deeper, harder. . .more. More.

Bella is pushing against me, meeting my thrusts and moaning, loudly, and that's making it even harder to maintain control. I'm holding back my orgasm by a thread. Oh god, please. I bite my lip, willing my cock not to explode, but it's too good. The feeling is too intense. "Please Bella, I'm so close . . . I have to . . .please. . . come, Bella." I'm rocking hard and fast and trying to get her there and I'm perspiring and begging her to come and no. . .no . . no . .I explode, moaning her name. . .I'm thrusting erratically and oh, thank fuck, she's there with me, spasming and contracting around me. . .Yes!

We lay together, panting, sweaty - smiling. I'm unbelievably happy. I've just made love for the first time, and definitely not the last. I pull her close and we drift off to sleep, exhausted. Satisfied.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

I yawn and slowly open my eyes as I wake in the morning. My memories of last night come flooding back to me in an instant as my body realizes it is pressed up against something soft and warm and heavenly.

Bella.

She's here. In my bed. No one has ever been in my bed before. If such a thing were possible I would think it was fate that brought us together. But I know it was just a series of fortuitous coincidences. The airport meeting being the luckiest of all. I shudder at the thought of being here alone.

My arm reaches out to stroke her bare shoulder that peeks out from beneath the sheet. Her skin is smooth and silky and I want more. Would she mind? As if she heard my internal musings, she reaches for my hand and pulls it around her waist so it rests on her lower abdomen. I assume she's enjoying my touch as she snuggles in closer to my body, rubbing her little behind into my groin.

Oh god. My morning erection is now throbbing. My cock has never seen so much action. I wonder how Bella would feel about some morning sexual activity. Would she be pro or con? I stroke the soft skin below her navel in an exploratory manner and she pushes her hips back in response.

The evidence points to pro.

She whispers my name and I take that as a confirmation of her interest. But she stills my hand and gently rolls off the bed.

"I need . . .umm, well I need to take a human minute," she says with a giggle that brings a smile to my face. "Do you mind?"

"Of course not. Good personal hygiene is an admirable quality."

I lean back, tucking my hands behind my head, content in the knowledge that my girl is coming back to bed with me and I am going to . . .

Fuck, who the hell is that? My phone buzzes a text message alert. I had written an email after the whole grad night text debacle to everyone who has my number to refrain from texting me unless it was extremely important, so I would assume that they would respect my request. This had better be good. Or bad.

"Fucking emergency. Call me now"

Emmett.

I hope it's nothing serious. Bella is still in the bathroom so I figure I have a few minutes. I call him back. When he hears my voice he sounds relieved.

"Edward. Thank fuck. I just had the most amazing sex of my life. Twice. I can barely move. My cock is –" I cut him off right there. I really don't want to hear about his cock, but that's not the main problem.

"Emmett, why are you calling me to tell me your sexual exploits? I'm in bed," I say angrily.

"At ten am? Are you sick or something? You always get up by seven," he replies with concern in his voice. "Dude, are you all emo because Bella went to visit her mom or some shit?'

"No, Emmett. Can you just tell me why you are sending emergency texts to me on Sunday morning? I really want to get back to bed." To Bella. But I leave that part out.

"I was trying to tell you. I said it was a 'fucking emergency' Mr. Literal. I meant actual fucking. So the sex. . .I don't know how to put this delicately. . ." he pauses.

"Did you get an STD, Emmett? Are you burning or itching? You can send me a picture of the infected area and I can make a rough diagnosis. . ."

He cuts me off. "First of all, I have never had an STD. Secondly, though I appreciate your doctoring abilities, I will never send you a picture of my cock even if it had a giant boil on the tip. That's just wrong."

"That would be quite serious if that were the case. You would really need to seek medical attention for that boil. I can refer you if you are not comfortable with me examining your penis." He sighs as I am speaking.

"Edward. I don't want you to check my cock for boils. I had sex with Rosalie last night. And this morning. It was fucking great. But maybe too great. I don't think I can stop."

Bella walks back into the room and raises an eyebrow when she sees me on the phone. I mouth "Emmett" to her as she slides back into my bed. I need to speed this up. She's still gloriously naked and she's moving slowly toward me.

"Emmett, if you want to continue seeing Rosalie, just be sure you treat her with respect and be honest."

I hear Bella's phone ping and she reaches for it. I guess I can't complain as I am currently carrying on a conversation with Emmett about penis lesions and her best friend.

"I know, Edward. I just . . .I don't know how to do this." He sounds forlorn. "Can I be that guy? The one that is – like- like you?"

I laugh. "Awkward and unsure? You aren't anything like that."

"No, I mean a real boyfriend. And I'm not anything like that. That's my problem. I want to be better."

Bella is texting something. I wonder who it is. She turns to look at me and she says softly, "It's Rose."

"What's that, Edward? Are watching the porn I gave you? Good for you. You are probably backed up after thinking you were going to get laid in San Fran."

"I am not watching porn, Emmett." Bella sends another text, but starts to run one hand across my chest. Her nails drag though my chest hair and I can't help but groan at the sensation. I grasp her hand and kiss her palm up to the crook of her elbow. She likes this judging by the way she has rolled over and hitched her leg over my hip. Her hand returns to my chest and her leg is now rubbing over my cock, which is alert to her attention. I stifle a groan and grasp her hip to slow her movement.

"Sure you're not. Anyway, back to my dilemma. . .what the fuck do I do?"

"Huh?" I mumble. She's got her hot little mouth on my chest. Soft, slow flicks of the tongue across my abdomen make me hard and needy for her, but the long lick across my pubic bone makes my eyes roll back and I moan.

"Fuck, Edward. Never mind. I'm going to try and pretend that you weren't jerking off to porn while I was talking to you. I'm going to chalk it up to fucking jet lag and extreme blueballs. We'll talk later when you don't have your dick in your hand."

"Emmett. Bella's here. We're, um, well. . ." I drift off, not wanting to over share, but still not wanting him to think I was pleasuring myself while speaking to him. That might be uncomfortable.

"No shit! Why the fuck didn't you say so? Sorry man. Get back to it." he laughs. Bella texts with one hand and starts sliding the other across my shaft.

"Oh, fuck!" I exclaim as she palms my length.

"Uh, Edward, I love porn, but I can't listen to this," Emmett says hastily.

"I'll call you later. Much later. Bye," I grind out, trying not to sound like I'm getting a hand job. But I am and it's feeling fucking great. I toss my phone somewhere, because I can't even think straight, and just focus on the sensation of her stroking my large, aching erection.

Her phone is gone now, too, and Bella's mouth is inches from my cock. I think she's going to . . .oh my. . . her lips press against the tip and I jerk a bit from the sensation. Thank god I don't have that boil condition that I discussed with Emmett. Now that would be unpleasant. She's straddling one of my legs and she looks up at me to see if I'm ok. I feel her arousal on my thigh and I'm biting my thumb to keep under control. I assume she takes it as a good sign, because she licks her lips like she's hungry and takes me all in. Well, as much as she can. She said it was big. "Unnnnhhh," I groan. Nothing has ever felt like this.

Her head is bobbing rhythmically like she's playing music written for my cock and it's so good I'm having trouble breathing. I'm stuttering and hissing and sound like I'm having a seizure. She stops, her mouth making a little, wet pop as she releases me and asks, "Am I doing it right, Edward?"

"It's perfect, Bella. Please don't stop. Unless you want to. . . if it is offensive to you in any way. . ." I ramble, hoping she'll want to continue. Dear God, please let her want to keep sucking me. I don't usually talk to you, but Bella makes me call out your name frequently.

She gives me a wicked grin and takes a long lick up my shaft, starting at my scrotum. "Oh, fuuuck! That's fantastic," I moan as Bella lowers her mouth on me again. She giggles, the vibrations making her motions more intense. I'm touching her hair and watching her lips move around me. . .it's unbelievably erotic to watch her. The licking and bobbing is causing my orgasm to build. . .my hips are thrusting in time with her movements. . .I'm almost there. "Oh, Bella, I – I – I'm going to come. . ." I warn her, but she just sucks faster and harder and I shoot thick, warm streams in her mouth. "Mmmmmphh, Bella. Thank you." I pull her toward me and kiss her forehead.

Wow. She swallowed that. Luckily there are only five calories per emission so that will not cause a disruption in her caloric intake. I wouldn't want to mess up her diet.

When I am able to move, I get up, throw on some boxers and bring two glasses of orange juice, because although it has protein, semen can't taste very good. And I really want her to do that again. I hand her a glass and I chug mine, gulping it all down as I am suddenly very thirsty. I lay back down next to her.

"So, Emmett told me he had sex with Rosalie. That's why I was talking to him. I'm sorry to be so rude."

"Yeah, she texted me," she said.

We both speak at the same time,

"Emmett said it was great."

"Rosalie told me that it was a mistake."

**End Notes:**

Thank you for all of the reviews. We truly love each and every one.

LiMB is up for a Twilight All Human Award for "The fanfiction that had you crying with laughter." Go vote. Thank you to whoever nominated us.

To bid on an exclusive outtake from LiMB for FGBEclipse, contact AllyinPerth on Twitter or ChampagneAnyone on ff. She is the team captain.

Check out the 'I Belong to Edward' shirt on Zazzle, created by the wonderful justduckie.

Follow us on Twitter: Cosmogirl7481 and Marvar29 or Forthwithward and xoDizzyBella69

Make us feel important - enter our Summer Lovin' One Shot Contest. It's on Twitter - summmerlovin and ff.- Summer Lovin Contest

We are taking submissions now.


	16. Re: Bedrooms and Brunch

**A/N**

Marvar: So, hubs isn't happy with my Robsession. And he hasn't even seen the pics on my phone!

Cosmogirl7481: Yeah, sometimes Mr. Cosmo isn't happy about mine either, but I usually tell him to bite me and if he has anything else to say he can say it to Cardboardward.

**BPOV**

Holy shit.

I just gave Edward a blow job...and I think I was good at it. I mean really, when you think about it - and I'm definitely thinking about it - how bad can it be to have someone's mouth on your cock?

And his cock was perfect. Oh, and apparently, I can say cock now without blushing. No, wait...pretty sure I'm blushing. But not from the word...from the actual cock.

Edward's cock.

I mean...it was right there and I was touching him and kissing him...and he got hard. Really hard...and long. And when I pulled back the sheet and looked at it, fuck me...I really wanted to taste it. And the interesting thing was that I wanted it for me. I wanted it for him, too...but mostly, I just really wanted to try. He had made me feel so good and I wanted to make him feel good.

When he was most of the way in my mouth, I wondered what I should do. But it was kind of instinctual. I'm pretty sure that no one had to teach me how to suck a lolly-pop...or lick an ice cream cone. And it was kind of like that...only not sweet and cold. It was hard and warm...and perfect in my mouth.

He said it was perfect - the way I was sucking him - not his cock. Though, he could have said his cock was perfect. It wouldn't have made him conceited or anything...just honest. I wonder if he realizes just how perfect and beautiful he is. Probably not. It's not like I ever look down inside my panties and think, "God, that's pretty."

I am pulled from my thoughts when he walks back into the room carrying two glasses of orange juice. He smiles at me nervously and reaches one of the glasses to me. It dawns on me that he is giving me this because I've just tasted and swallowed his come.

Yes, I swallowed. I am a sex-goddess and also bad-ass! But as much as I would have hoped that it tasted like whipped cream...it really didn't. In fact, it was salty and a little gross. Not so gross that I won't do it again - _because I will_. Edward really seemed to like that part and his face was...well, his face seemed to reflect everything I was feeling when he made me come last night...both times. It was euphoric...like the best thing I'd ever felt. Truly. I don't know if my own hands will ever do it for me again. Not now that I've felt _his_ fingers...and of course, his cock.

I take a drink of the orange juice and I swish it around a little. I'm happy because it's so much better than water would have been. I'm pulled from my thoughts because as I look up, I am rendered to a puddle of goo at the sight before me.

Edward is drinking...no gulping his glass of orange juice like he's just run a marathon. I am in awe as I watch the muscles in his neck flex as he swallows...and sweet Jesus I almost die as a little drop of the juice runs down his chin. He finishes the glass off and I clench my legs together as his perfect, pink tongue slips out to lick his lips.

He lies down beside me and he tells me what Emmett said. He also apologizes for being on the phone, which wasn't even a big deal because I was texting Rose at the same time. But then he tells me that Emmett said that it was great and I tell him that Rose thought it was a mistake.

"She said it was a mistake?" he asks.

"Honestly, Edward…I don't know what she's thinking," I tell him. "She _did_ tell me that they broke my blender. I'm still not sure how _that_ happened. I mean, the blender was on the kitchen counter."

"That's odd," he says. "Emmett doesn't like mixed drinks."

I snuggle closer to him because he's so close and his chest is just…right there…bare and begging me to nuzzle and maybe lick it. He wraps his arms around me and I decide that I am never leaving his bed.

_Ever_.

"Bella, do you really want to talk about them right now?" he asks.

I giggle because Rose and Emmett are the last thing on my mind.

"Not really," I tell him, looking up and smiling. "I didn't want to talk to her then. I was kind of preoccupied with your...um...well, you know."

I blush and realize that thinking the word 'cock' is actually a lot different than saying it. Especially to the man whose 'cock' is the focal point of all my thoughts at the moment.

"I'm glad you were concentrating on it," he says…his voice is lower than it was before.

"It was kind of hard not to…" I say, looking down at his boxers. "Well, it was just…_hard_."

Edward takes a deep breath and I feel his hands slip underneath the sheet that is covering me. His hands are soft and warm and they slide over my skin that I feel flushing under his touch. I look up and into his eyes.

"Bella, would it be to forward of me to…" he pauses and seems nervous, unsure. "I would very much like to perform um, cunnilingus on you. I've read that women enjoy that quite a bit. And I really want to um, pleasure you?"

I die at his words.

_Die._

They are so sweet and sincere…and really fucking hot. Even when he says cunnilingus is hot.

"You…you want to do that?" I ask stupidly instead of telling him hell yes.

"I – I would…if you would like me to," he says. "Would you like me to?"

"Yes."

He pulls my face to his kissing me softly, licking my lips with his tongue. And all I can think about is that soon…_he'll be licking my lips with his tongue._

He rises up on his knees after kissing me on my cheek. He slowly pulls back the sheet, exposing my body. My first instinct is to be embarrassed, but there is nothing embarrassing about the way that he's looking at me. He moves down the bed and positions himself between my legs that I have now parted like the red fucking sea. Which is appropriate since I'm now as wet as the ocean.

He's looking at me…there. Like, really looking at it. He reaches his hand out and his finger strokes me softly. I want to buck just from his touch. His eyes lift back up to mine and he says, "Bella, your vagina is so…beautiful."

_Oh, god!_

_No, no, no, no!_

_Please don't call it a vagina!_

I look at his face and he is looking at my…pussy. Yes, my pussy.

"Edward," I say nervously and he looks up at me.

_I can tell him this. I think I can tell him this._

"Please…call it my…please, call it my pussy," I whisper and then I am mortified that the words have actually come out of my mouth.

Fuck, maybe he didn't hear me. Maybe I can pretend that I didn't say that.

My face is on fire and I want to crawl under the sheet and hide, but before I can do exactly that, I hear his voice…soft and unsure.

"That…that word doesn't offend you?"

"Are you offended by that word?" I ask because I can't shut up and also because I want to know. If it does offend him, I don't want him to say it. But he definitely can't say vagina…or flower.

"Um, no?" he says. "Do you want me to um, kiss your…_pussy_, Bella?"

Can I say, "_Hell, yes_?"

No. I can't say anything. He has rendered me completely speechless with his words.

Those words.

I bite down on my lip and nod my head. I can't even breathe because I'm afraid if I say anything else, I will ruin this moment.

He looks at me for another second and then I feel his finger begin to stoke me again. His face turns to the side and I feel the slight scruff of his unshaven face combined with the soft texture of his hair against the skin if my thigh. And then I feel his lips and tongue as he kisses and licks me there. On my leg. I think I might come from this alone and can't imagine what it will feel like with his mouth on me…my pussy.

He's close, so close and then he's there and his finger is gone and I feel his tongue on me and I moan. Loudly. So loudly in fact, that it causes him to stop and ask me if I'm okay.

"God, yes!" I say because I am and I want him to continue doing that immediately.

No wonder he was so happy after I did this to him!

He smiles at me…no, he beams at me. I'm looking at his perfect face in between my legs and the moment would seem strange if it wasn't so fucking perfect. And then he's licking me again and he moans into my wet skin. It's getting wetter by the moment because NOTHING has ever felt this good ever!

_Not ever_.

In the back of my mind I wonder if it tastes good or bad…or if he even tastes it at all.

I want to squeeze my legs shut tight so that he is forced to stay there forever, because Edward kissing – no, Edward French-kissing my pussy is the best thing in the world. I put my hands in his hair instead because I'm pretty sure that the whole closing-my-legs-around-his-face thing would cause him to not be able to breathe. And I need him breathing so that he can do this again.

Every muscle in my body tenses and I feel my legs shaking and oh, my god I'm coming and I think I'm pulling his hair. Hard. I don't even know if I screamed, but he is kissing my leg now and my entire body is limp. I release his hair and I feel like I can't move because that is the most intense and wonderful thing I have ever experienced. He is still kissing my leg, but he looks up at me and I say the first thing that comes to my mind.

"Thank you," I say breathlessly. "Thank you, Edward. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

He responds with his perfect smile and he moves back up the bed and curls himself beside me, taking me in his arms.

"You…you liked that?" he asks.

I don't answer.

There is no answer to that question.

I place my hands on his cheeks and I kiss him. I kiss him like I've never kissed him before. It's deep and long and full of every bit of the love and gratitude that I feel for what he just gave me.

I pull back and I look into his eyes and he looks so happy. He looks so happy and I feel so happy.

"Wow," he whispers. "What – What was that for?"

"I wanted to know what I tasted like." I tell him, giggling.

"You taste like Bella," he says, holding me tightly against him.

**EPOV**

So, all in all one of my better weekends. Sex with my girlfriend last night, and oral pleasures this morning. I feel so manly. Like a movie star or something. Who's famous nowadays? That DiCaprio fellow? No, Bella says I'm more attractive than some guy named Johnny Depp. I'll have to Google him. I bet he doesn't give his girlfriend two orgasms. No, wait. Three. One last night. I wish I could give Emmett a fist bump right now, though I wouldn't want him to see her naked.

I lay grinning like an idiot on my bed as Bella dozes next to me. I wore her out. Me. I gaze over her sleeping form. She's sprawled out across my bed; the sheets tangled with her limbs. She's more beautiful than anything and anyone. And she's mine. Well, not in a owner/servant capacity obviously. Completely consensual agreement of course.

Because she's my girlfriend. And she loves me. Edward Masen. I laugh out loud because I cannot contain my joy.

Bella stirs and stretches sleepily - her arms reaching over her head, exposing her breasts. I'm fascinated by them. I can't look away. I'm briefly mortified when she catches me looking but she starts to giggle and says, "Edward, I told you my araolae are shy. You're making them self conscious." I can't help but smile widely at her expression. I'm amazed at how comfortable I feel with her. No awkward pauses or uncomfortable situations. We just. . . are. . .together. I reach out and grab her hand and kiss her fingers one by one. She sighs and looks at me with that look. You know, the one that makes my heart speed up and makes me think I'm having a cardiac episode.

I hear her stomach rumbling and I realize it is quite late and we haven't eaten since yesterday. My whole eating schedule is off. And I am being an ungracious host.

"Bella, I'm going to make breakfast. Or more the more appropriately titled 'brunch' considering the hour," I say as I jump up from the bed, pulling on my t-shirt. She pouts, and it's the most adorable thing I've ever seen. And I've worked in labor and delivery at the hospital. "You don't want to me to cook, Bella?"

"I want you to stay. . .here with me, but I am kind of hungry."

"I definitely will be right back. You need to eat, Bella."

I leave her in my bed, secure in the knowledge that she will be waiting for me when I'm done preparing our meal. I'm feeling . . . smug? This was a new feeling in the Edward Masen repertoire. I practically saunter into my kitchen.

"J'espere que vous apprecierez votre omelette, mon amour," I say as I present her with her lovingly–prepared meal. Her eyes widen at the sight of it.

"Umm. . .wow. What did that mean? I understood omelette. This looks wonderful, Edward."

"I took a cooking class one summer in Provence," I say, shrugging. "It's really nothing. I just said, 'I hope you enjoy your omelet, my love.' "

"It's amazing, Edward," she says, smiling. "No one has ever cooked for me before except Rose. And she only makes baked potato and salad. This is wonderful. . .really." She knows just what to say to make me feel incredible. And she's not even trying.

After we are done eating, I ask, "Bella, I was thinking that we could visit my parents tomorrow. Would that be acceptable? I would very much like to introduce you to them."

"You want to introduce me to your parents?" she asks, surprise evident in her voice. "Really?"

"Why are you surprised, Bella? I want the most important people in my life to meet each other."

"What if. . .what I mean is, do you think they'll like me? And I'm one of the most important people in your life?" she asks with a hint of doubt in her voice.

I pull her close to me to say, "Of course they'll like you. How could they not? And Bella, you are _the_ most important."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next day we set out to my parents' house bright and early. You would think that I would feel more well-rested after spending the better part of the day and night in bed. I guess we should have slept last night, but I'm the direct opposite of regretful when I think of my time with Bella.

I glance over at her. She looks amazing, like always. Last night and this morning have been nothing short of perfect. I think I like having sex regularly. It's not overrated.

"So, this is the Aston Martin?" she asks. "You really are like James Bond, you know. Only, you're so much sexier than he is."

I chuckle at her comments. "I'm far from a secret agent, Bella. But if you think I'm sexy, well, then I appreciate the compliment. Although you are probably biased."

"Oh, you're definitely sexy, Edward." she says, blushing. "And maybe I'm biased, but it doesn't make it any less true."

"Thank you, Bella. I feel the same way about you," I say, holding her hand.

"So, Masen. Edward Masen," she says leaning up against the car. "Are you gonna take me for a ride?"

I gulp, my eyes wide. I think she's flirting with me. "I, um, yes?" Maybe I should flirt back? My body presses against her and my arm reaches around to open the lock. "Do you want to get on - I mean in?" I whisper in her ear. I think the flirting is working because she looks a little . . . flushed and I know she doesn't have a fever. I'm really getting the hang of this flirting stuff. It just takes some innuendo and sexy looks. Well, Bella said they were sexy. I still have reservations.

"Yes," she says, blushing. "I definitely want to. Would you like me in. . .or on?"

She enters the car slowly, purposefully. The purpose is to drive me crazy. I can't help staring at her. Her legs look a mile long in that skirt. My hand twitches on the console. I wonder if she would mind holding hands? No, that would be reckless and irresponsible if I took my hand off the wheel.

She's got something on her mind though, and she slides her hand along my upper thigh. She smiles at me shyly and my breathing speeds up. I take a big gulp of air as she rubs her thumb across my crotch. I nearly swerve. It takes all of my concentration to keep my eyes on the road.

"So, Edward. Tell me about your family. What do I need to know?" she asks.

"I- um, my father is – god," I groan because she's put her hands in my pants. She giggles because I sound like a moron. This is what she does to me. "Bella. . ."

"You don't mind if I. . ." she says softly as she leans over to whisper in my ear. "I mean, I'll stop if you want me to."

I shiver at her words. My pants are now undone and I really don't want her to stop. Is that wrong?

"You. . .you're - oh, that's good," I exhale as she grips me and starts moving her hand up and down my length.

DId I say before how much I love her?

I realize my hand is woefully inadequate after experiencing this. "Don't stop, please. . . I mean, if you don't mind or. . .ahh."

Her hand has found a perfect rhythm. I'm making sounds like, 'mmm' and 'yes' as I try to drive the speed limit and not kill us both. I imagine that the accident scene would be quite embarrassing for me. My mother always said, "Put on clean underwear in case you are in an accident." She probably didn't think about my cock sticking out of my briefs when I crash.

Bella is going to make me come in my car. If this wasn't feeling so fantastic, I would be mortified at the thought. Where's the um, emission, going to go?

"Oh, Bella, mmm, yessss!" I cry out as I come all over her hand, and unfortunately, my steering wheel. Well, I got my answer.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

We arrive at my parents' house exactly on time. I'm wearing that smug look again and Bella looks. . .well, like she just pleasured me in my car. I open the door for her and she grins at me. I take her hand and help her out of the car.

"Oh, my god, Edward," she says. "This house is amazing."

My parents are sitting in the living room and they rise as soon as they see us.

"Bella, this is my mom and dad, Esme and Carlisle. Mom, Dad, this is my Bella," I say proudly. This is my first time bringing home a girlfriend, and I'm hoping that she'll be my one and only.

My mother immediately grasps Bella in a huge hug. My dad holds out his hand and they shake. I cringe when I realize that this is the hand that was just wrapped around my cock in my car and very recently was coated by my semen. I'm so glad that I carry anti-bacterial wipes in my car. I told Emmett they were necessary. But I probably won't bring up this occasion to say 'I told you so.' They really don't advertise this as the typical wipe usage.

"Bella! It's so lovely to meet you, dear. Edward can't stop talking about you," my mother gushes. "Isn't she lovely, Carlisle?"

"Yes, Esme. Bella, welcome. Let's sit down and have a drink."

"Thank you for having me," she says, reaching over to take my hand. "I'm really happy to be here. And only a little nervous."

We share some small talk and an excellent breakfast. My mother was the one who took me to the cooking class in France, after all. We have some mimosas (my mom has a few more than we do) in the sunroom where my parents start with the questions. I should have realized that breakfast was too easy.

"So, how did you two meet?" my father asks. Bella looks at me wide-eyed, like she's unsure of how to answer that. Maybe she doesn't want my parents to know of our sexual encounter. I decide to answer.

"Um, we met in Miami during spring break. We have had a long-distance relationship since then." Bella breathes a little easier next to me.

"That's so sweet and old-fashioned, Edward," my mom gushes. "Does Hippocrates approve, dear?"

She did not just ask that in front of my girlfriend!

"Mom, you know I don't talk to Hippocrates anymore. Not since I read that case study. Please don't bring that up," I demand, giving her a stern glare. I hope Bella thinks Hippocrates is an old school friend. Well, technically he is. I glance at her and she's smiling at me. I sigh and kiss her hand. My mother gasps and tears form in her eyes. She nudges my dad and tilts her head towards our hands. She smiles at my father and he grins back. "Are you ok, mom?" I ask.

"I'm fantastic, sweetie," she replies, her voice full of emotion.

I want to change the subject because my mom is being strange. "How's Alice? Is she still mad at you? She won't talk to me."

"Oh, everything's fine, now. In fact -" I hear the someone walking in the hallway.

"Mommy! Daddy! I'm home! And look, I brought my new husband!"

What the fuck did my sister do?

And what the hell is wrong with his hair? Is that a wig?

**End Notes:**

Thank you for all of the reviews. We truly love each and every one.

Thank you to GreenEyedGirl17 for recc'ing us in her fic, Silver Strand Nights. If you aren't reading this story, you should be. Navy Sealward is hot! And we both love him!

To bid on an exclusive outtake from LiMB for FGBEclipse, contact AllyinPerth on Twitter or ChampagneAnyone on ff. She is the team captain.

Check out the 'I Belong to Edward' shirt on Zazzle, created by the wonderful justduckie.

Follow us on Twitter: Cosmogirl7481 and Marvar29 or Forthwithward and xoDizzyBella69

Make us feel important - enter our Summer Lovin' One Shot Contest. It's on Twitter - summmerlovin and ff.- Summer Lovin Contest

We are taking submissions now.


	17. Re: Shamans and Sex Talk

**EPOV**

Well, my sister is married. To her professor. To be fair, he is no longer her professor. They waited a whole day to get married to avoid impropriety. Yes, that was sarcasm.

Yesterday was a debacle. I haven't heard that much yelling since, well, the last drama with my sister. Her life is more complicated than a Shakespearean farce. I didn't yell because she wasn't my daughter, of course my daughter hopefully wouldn't be as foolish as Alice. I began to think of a little girl with brown hair and brown eyes (the most likely genetic combination depending on Bella's parents' characteristics) and how to keep her away from her college professors. Maybe a private tutor? Wow, that was presumptuous. Bella would want to decide those things with me.

After everyone calmed down, Alice explained their whirlwind romance and undying love. Jasper chanted something in Hindi (I believe) and said their spirits were now one and the Cosmos brought them together. I'll have to assume that is some sort of declaration of love.

Charlatan.

I needed to do an Internet search to check for illicit activities.

Alice seemed very happy with him. Ecstatic, even. I checked her pupils and fingernails for signs of drug use. She looked sober, but I was going to monitor that situation.

Jasper, on the other hand, looked like he was on some sort of substance. Maybe Alice got a contact high and that was why she went through with this farce. I wonder if Jasper would give me a hair for a drug test?

I nearly chuckled thinking about his hair. My very stylish sister married a man with unkempt hair and a caftan and sandals. On second thought, it could only be drugs or true love. Sigh. My sister wasn't a drug addict. So that left love as the only reason.

By the end of the night, my parents seemed to have come to terms with Jasper and Alice's marriage. Maybe Jasper was a professor of voodoo or witchcraft (I know that's ridiculous but I'm obviously at a loss). I guess I would have to accept . . . him as well.

I mean they were married, right?

We set out rather early to my parents' house considering our nightly activities which are . . . um, keeping me up at night. And I must say I have never been so happy to have my sleep schedule disrupted.

While I'm thrilled that Bella gets along with my family so well, I'm worried about what they might say to her on their outing. My mother tends to get a bit talkative when she gets tipsy. For example, she almost told Bella about my imaginary friend Hippocrates. That could be embarrassing if she found out, even though Bella has accepted me and all of my shortcomings.

Bella puts on some music while I drive. Hmm. Such sexual innuendo in today's lyrics.

"So Jasper's interesting, huh?" Bella asks. I snort, then bite back a gasp at my uncouth outburst.

"Did you just snort, Edward?" she giggles. She stares at me with an incredulous look on her face.

"I apologize, Bella, for losing control like that," I say; my reddened cheeks illustrating my humiliation.

"It was cute, Edward. That's not really losing control, though. I might like to see that," she whispers, touching my cheek.

I swallow, reflexively, then I realize that I don't need to be embarrassed. She's my girlfriend.

She's in love with me and my ramblings.

We pull into my parents' driveway and I lean over and gently grasp her by the nape of her neck so I can kiss her soft lips. "Thank you," I say against her mouth.

"For what?" she replies, giving me that look. The one that makes me feel like my heart is bursting (I've mentioned this condition before).

"For loving me." 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x 

After a hug to my family and a perfunctory greeting to Jasper, we set out for the day in our gender-based groups.

Ugh. Not only do I have to be away from Bella all day, I have to spend "quality time" with him. This was an order from Alice and seconded by Bella. Maybe he'll prove himself worthy of my sister after further scrutiny.

Forgive me if I seem skeptical.

We arrive at the country club after some small talk on the ride over. I learned a few things about Jasper (nothing I could use against him in a court of law, unfortunately).

"So, Jasper, tell us about your job," my father asks as I tee off.

"Well, Carlisle, I'm an associate professor of new age philosophy. I'm currently writing a book about the healing powers of crystals and daily affirmations and how they are superior to prescription drugs," he replies. At that, I laugh out loud. My father gives me a look that tells me to stop. "You need a cleanse, Edward. You seem very tense." he then waves some rock in front of me and chants something. I roll my eyes back so far, I hope my dad doesn't think I'm having a seizure. "Have you ever researched therapeutic touch?" he asks as he reaches for me.

"That's very interesting, Jasper. I'd love to see some of your data another time," my dad says quickly, noticing my irritation.

Why am I so annoyed by him? I can tolerate that he practically kidnapped my baby sister or his stupid hair or the fact that everyone seems to love him instantly, but his complete disregard for science is just not acceptable.

We continue with our game. "Good shot, Jazz!" my father exclaims. "You're learning quicker than Edward did."

"I was five," I mutter to myself. Apparently I wasn't that quiet because my father gives me another look. This time he's amused. He appeases me my by praising my backswing on the next hole.

We play a few more holes, my father continuing to speak to Jasper while I try not to. A buzzing in my pants tells me I have a text message. I'm glad it's from Bella and not Emmett. I smile and breathe a sign of relief that I didn't get another sexual 911.

**"Umm…Edward. Does your mother tend to get tipsy often?" **

I reply nervously. My mom and alcohol are not the best combination.

She texts back, commenting on my ballroom dancing lessons. Luckily that's not too embarrassing. I thought about how my instructor would always use me to demonstrate new moves and would stay extra time after class to help me with my technique.

I laugh when she says it was seductive.

**"Not with your own mother, but I'll admit to some interesting possibilities with you."**

I press send. I hope she doesn't mind my flirting.

No. I don't thinks she minds because her next text is about a low-cut dress she's going to tempt me with. Her texts are distracting me from my game. And I really need to beat Jasper and my father.

New text. What? Oh, excellent. My mother just told Bella about the time she tried to set me up with her male hair stylist. She went through a phase where she thought I was gay. She even joined PFLAG. (Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays) I think there's even a scholarship.

I text back.

"**Oh dear god. Yes, I avoid dates that have penises. Besides, you are my type."**

**"I love being your type. And I love more that it has nothing to do with my vagina. I mean my pussy."**

I cough loudly when I read her message. Jesus. She was slowly killing me. I think 80 percent of our conversations ended with me having an erection. I didn't actually study this, but that's a very good estimate. I compose myself, glad my father was helping Jasper with his putting so he can't see the bulge in my pants.

**"Bella, are you drinking, too?"**

She must be. I knew my mother would corrupt her. I think my father and I will have to set up some sort of intervention.

**"Maybe a little. Not much. I needed a drink. You mother keeps talking to me about sex!"**

Oh dear god. I hope she isn't giving her advice.

**"Bella, while I'm not embarrassed to have my mother know we have sex, I'd prefer to keep the specifics to a minimum."**

I trust her not to say too much. I don't trust my mother to refrain from over sharing. I remember when she gave me the sex talk. I couldn't eat bananas for a year.

**"I'm not talking about OUR sex, Edward! She is talking about HER sex with YOUR FATHER!"**

I gasp loudly and my father and Jasper both look over to me.

"Dad. She's talking about sex. To Bella. Help me," I plead.

My father chuckles and pats me on the back. "It'll be fine, Edward. Besides, She could probably give Bella a few tips. You know your mother can do-" I cut him off immediately. That information could probably ruin my erection for good. Well, that was an exaggeration. But it would be very disturbing.

"The shaman who married us says sexual knowledge should be shared freely," Jasper chimes in. "I can't give you his number, but I can draw you a map to his hut."

I think I may be hyperventilating. I'm lucky my father is a doctor. I text Bella, hoping to calm myself.

**"Did you know that Alice got "married" by a shaman? Between texts I'm researching the validity of the marriage."**

Surely Bella will be able to sense my frustration.

"It doesn't matter who married them as long as they had a marriage license. Anyone can be ordained online. Besides, she said it was romantic."

Yes, I'm sure the hut was lovely.

" 'Sham' being the first four letters of 'shaman' is not a coincidence, Bella. Please tell me you want a traditional wedding. I am not getting married in a hut."

**"Edward, Alice seems really happy. What would you say if she was questioning our love because of its…interesting inception?" **

Fuck.

**"That is different!"**

It really is. _We_ fell in love. I didn't cart her off, literally, to some field and chant over her with a bag of crystallized rock samples.

**"Plus, I really like Jasper. He's cute and he cleansed my aura." **

I give Jasper a dirty look. He's putting a birdie. Fuck. He's only two strokes behind. And he's cleansing Bella. I'm sure that is some sort of symbolic gesture, but I'm still not happy.

**"Bella, I don't want anyone touching your aura or anything else." **

I angrily tap out the words. I hope I don't ruin the touch screen.

"**And please tell me that you are kidding about my mother and the sex talk. Is it possible to cover your ears?"**

**"Well, it would be rude not to listen to her. She is your mother. By the way, did you know that your father likes 'ass play'…when your mom is performing oral sex? I didn't, but now I do." **

OK. I'm officially having an episode of abnormal breathing. I was embellishing to emphasis a point earlier, but now I'm wheezing. Why on earth would my mother ever say those words aloud? My father gives me a concerned look. I wave him off as I control myself.

**"Bella, I'm deleting that text and I'd appreciate it if you never spoke of that again." **

I wish there was some sort of non-intrusive way to remove individual thoughts from my brain. I decide I need to research that.

**"Okay, but…um…well, your mother said that most men find that really stimulating. And Alice agreed. I was just…nevermind."**

Yes, I definitely need to remove these thoughts. Especially when I completely botch my shot on the next hole because I can't concentrate.

"**Oh god. I think they just ruined oral sex for me. Wait, that's not possible. Just please don't talk about my father's ass and sex and my sister ever again." **

**"I really love oral sex with you, Dr. Masen. Trust me. I don't want to ever think about oral sex with anyone else. I miss you. When are you going to be through with golf?"**

Bella's seductive words soothe my previous horror. She has a profound affect on me. Two minutes ago I wanted to have less than perfect vision so I couldn't read the debauchery my mother and sister were sharing. Now I want her.

**"Bella, I can't play with a giant erection. We're on the 16th hole. Then we're going to the clubhouse so my father can introduce Jasper."**

I look over at the two of them who seem to be laughing and having a good time. I sigh and realize that I'm the only person who's uptight and upset. I should try to get along with . . . him. Maybe.

"Well, Carlisle, I don't believe in drugs or hospitals. . ." Jasper says as he gets on the cart.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I just don't see how this is going to work. Luckily, Bella sends a new text.

**"I don't know what** **that means. My father doesn't play golf. How many holes are there? Edward, I love the way you 'play' with an erection. And yes…it's giant."**

She's such a little flirt. My flirt.

**"Two more. Do you want to 'play' with me? (I'm flirting with you – I don't mean golf.)" **

I hope that is a reasonable attempt at flirtatious behavior.

**"I would love to play with you. I could spend all night and day playing with you. Do you want to play with me?"**

Ha! Score one for Masen. I'm getting better at this.

**"YES."**

**" *grinning* Alice wants to know if we would have dinner with her and Jasper. She also said that she knows we're sexting."**

Sexting? I was just warming up to flirting. There's so much I need to learn. I can't imagine there would be study group that I could join.

**"Oh, alright. And we are not sexting. That sounds sordid."**

I really don't want to spend anymore time with Jasper especially after he started talking about the genius of L. Ron Hubbard. I mean, how do you respond to that? My father coughed. I guess that's acceptable, then.

**"When will we have some alone time? I wasn't kidding when I said that I missed you."**

I smiled at her words. Then I hit the hell out of the ball. Bite me, Jasper.

**"We have all night, Bella. I know I'm up for it." **

We've been up late every night she's been here. I've never felt stronger or more alert.

My father's shot lands in the cup and we drive to the last hole. Jasper starts talking about Alice and how brilliant she is and how much he loves her. My feelings towards him change as I realize that she picked him and he adores her. . .like Bella and I (but probably not as intense - that's not possible). He's going to be in my life. . .as my brother-in-law. I stop scowling at him and say, "Alice is great. You're a lucky man." My father beams with pride at my new attitude.

Jasper smiles and says, "Your aura just changed from black to gold." Ugh. He makes it so hard. If Bella wasn't texting to distract me, I think I may have said something rude.

**"I know you are. I just got wet thinking about it. And Edward…I'm so happy you're my boyfriend. And also…I love you."**

I want to get to her as soon as possible. I take a deep breath and putt. Jasper and my dad cheer me on as I win by two strokes. I chuckle when I think of how many strokes it would take Bella to. . . wow, I'm quite aroused. I'm starting to think like Emmett.

I turn to my . . .new brother and say, "Welcome to the family, Jasper." Then I text my Bella.

**"I'll hurry. And I love you, too."**

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**BPOV**

So, yeah. I'm going to spend the day with Alice and Esme while the boys play golf. They have a whole day planned. We are going to a spa and shopping. And if yesterday was any indication, I'm assuming that there will be drinks of some sort involved. Esme seems to enjoy imbibing…a lot. I'm more than happy to do it, but I would be lying if I said that I wouldn't rather be with Edward all day instead. I'm only here for a few more days and if we spent the entire time in bed, it wouldn't hurt my feelings.

Who knew that I would be such a sex-fiend? It's just so easy with Edward. He makes me feel so special and well, loved. I wasn't sure if anything would happen last night. I mean, he was pretty upset about Alice and Jasper's impromptu wedding. Well, elopement is a better word. I thought it all sounded romantic and Alice looked so happy, but Edward was livid. I don't think that I ever imagined that he could be so angry…but he was. And honestly, it was hot.

He fumed the entire way home. Well, he did soften up a bit when I leaned over to kiss and lick his neck. He seems to like that…a lot. But not as much as I like doing it. I love the way Edward tastes. And even more than that, I love the way he responds when I taste him. He actually whimpered when I sucked the skin between his neck and shoulder. And let me just say that just like anger – whimpering is hot, too.  
_It's really hot. _  
Especially when it's coming from your beautiful boyfriend that has given you four delicious orgasms in twenty-four hours.

I love him.  
I really do love him. Not in some crazy way that makes me want to run off and marry him like Alice and Jasper. Even though there is nothing wrong with that. I just want to spend time with him getting to know him in person the way I got to know him through emails. And I'm finding that Edward really is very much the same man, both on the screen and off. It's the incidental things that I have found myself fascinated with. Like the fact that it tickles him when I whisper in his ear, but I can tell he really likes it anyway. His erection speaks louder than his words.

I squeeze my legs together as I remember the way he was with me last night. I knew he was upset about Alice, but it was like he forgot all about that once we were alone and in his apartment. He was focused on me…on the way he was touching and kissing me. And we kissed a lot. It's like we we're still making up for lost time. Not that I feel like the time we spent emailing was lost. I wouldn't change it for anything in the world. It's just so wonderful to get to be with him like this. It makes it even better knowing that I'm in love with him…and he's in love with me.

So, two more orgasms later and I'm preparing to leave him for the day. If it's possible, he seems more upset about it than I do. I'm not really upset. I'm sure that I will love spending the day with Alice and Esme, but that doesn't mean that I wouldn't rather spend it with him. I think he feels the same way, but I also think that he's a little frustrated that he has to spend time with Jasper. He would never admit that, though. Well, he might admit it a little…to me.  
_And he does._

He opens the passenger door to his car and helps me out. Once the door is shut, he pulls me into his arms and I can hear him breathing in deeply. He's smelling my hair. I giggle at the thought. He seems to love the scent of my shampoo for some reason. I completely get it, though. I love the way he smells. If I could bathe myself in his shower gel, I would.  
"What am I going to do when I miss you today?" I ask him as he continues to nuzzle my neck.  
"Just because my family isn't allowed to text me anymore, doesn't mean you can't, Bella," he says, pulling back to smile down at me. "Text me whenever you want."  
"Okay."

We walk inside and we are no sooner there before I am swept up in the whirlwind that is Alice and Esme. Alice hugs me tightly. She's really strong for such a tiny person. Her whole body seems to vibrate with happiness and I assume that things must have gone well for her and Jasper with her parents after we left last night. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Carlisle laughing with Jasper about something and Edward is standing there…clearly irritated and quiet.  
_But fuck me, he's still so pretty._

"Oh, Bella!" she exclaims. "Aren't you so excited to go shopping with us?"

"Umm…yeah, sure," I say, smiling. "I mean, I don't have a lot that I need to buy, but shopping sounds fun. Are we shopping all day?"

"Of course not, dear," Esme says as she approaches me and embraces me as well. I can't help but thinking how affectionate Edward's family is. "We are also going to the day spa for manicures and facials. And I thought we could have lunch and just get to know each other, Bella. How does that sound?"

She smiles at me so sweetly and for the first time today, I'm really excited about spending the day with these two women. One of which is already special to me, but both of which are special to Edward.

"It sounds wonderful."

I look over to Edward and he is looking at us and smiling. I blush when I realize that he was watching me, but he smiles at me and discreetly mouths the words 'I love you'.

And Jesus, I love him too.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Once we are in the car, I decide it's a good time to ask Alice about what happened with Jasper.

"Alice, I can't believe you're married," I say. "How did that happen?"

"Well…" she starts.

"Oh, no," Esme interrupts. "I've already heard all about my daughter and her new husband. What I want to know about is you and my son."

She winks at me in the rear-view mirror and I gulp.

"Don't be nervous, Bella," Alice says. "I already told them how fantastic you are."

"Oh…umm…thank you?" I say.

"Really, dear…don't worry," Esme says. "I think you're wonderful. And do you know what else I think it wonderful?"

"What?"

"The smile you have brought to my son's face…and the obvious happiness you've brought…to the rest of his body as well."

They both burst out into laughter as my face flames and I want to sink down into the soft leather seat and die. Did she just say what I think she said?

I glare at Alice and she turns in her seat to face me.

"Really, Bella. It's so obvious what's been going on with the two of you and we're just happy that he has you in his life now."

This makes me feel somewhat better even though I'm mortified that Edward's mother seems to know that we're having sex. And more than that – she seems to be genuinely happy about it.

"I'm happy to have him in my life, too," I say softly after clearing my throat. "He's just so…so perfect."

My mind drifts to Edward and the time we've spent together and the way he's taken the time to get to know me…and love me. It's not just the physical part of our relationship. Really, it everything that has brought us here. Miami, the emails and phone calls…just him.

"He is, Bella," Esme says. "And you're perfect for him. Besides, I think a girl could do worse than a surgeon that happens to be well-endowed."

"Oh my god," I say as I sink down a little further.

"Jesus Christ, mother!" Alice exclaims. "Do I really need to know about the size of Edward's dick?"

This just keeps getting worse and worse by the moment.

"Watch your language, Alice," Esme says, but I see the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile.

"Mother, I'm married now," Alice says indignantly. "I think I can say dick if I want to. Dick. Dick. Dick. Dick. Dick!"

I am almost expecting her to stick her tongue out and I'm trying not to laugh.

"Oh, really, Mrs. Whitlock," Esme says teasingly. And I am happy that the conversation has shifted away from me and Edward and his…size. "Well then, you should know how I know about your brother's generous endowment."

_Fuck me._

"No mother, I don't think I need to know that."

I don't need to know that either.

"Let's just say that the banana didn't fall far from the big banana tree," she says with a wink. "Isn't that right, Bella? Please, tell my married daughter with the potty mouth that the men in our family are blessed in that area."

_Kill. Me. Now._

"I...umm…oh, I'm not sure…"

I literally have no words that could be considered remotely articulate. I mean, yes, Edward is definitely 'blessed' but I really don't need to know that his step-father was. My internal panic attack is interrupted by Alice's external one.

"Eww! Mother, that is possibly the most disturbing thing you've ever said!" she shrieks. "Never _ever_ talk about Dad's…_eww, no_! I can't even say it!"

Esme is laughing full-on at this point.

"What?" she asks. "You're not in the mood to play dick, dick, goose anymore?"

It becomes apparently clear to me that Edward's family are either the coolest people in the world or the craziest. I'm not sure I have enough information to make up my mind…yet.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

We arrive at the day spa and are seated in a waiting room. A woman about my age walks in and begins talking to Esme.

"Mrs. Cullen, may we offer you and your guests a cocktail while you wait?"

They serve drinks here. Thank god. I think I need one.

"Of course, dear," she says sweetly. "What do you think, girls?"

"I'll have Bellini," Alice says.

"That actually sounds wonderful. I'll have the same," Esme say and then looks to me. "What about you, Bella?"

"I've never had a Bellini before, but if you both like it, I'm sure I will."

"You know, Edward used to drink Bellinis with me after our ballroom dancing lessons. He's such a good son."

"Edward took ballroom dancing lessons with you?"

I don't know why, but the idea of that is just about the sweetest thing I've ever heard. Well, maybe the sweetest thing since Alice told me about Hippocrates.

A little while later, I am finishing my drink and Esme has already started on her second. It's really yummy. I can see why they like them so much. It's all fizzy and tastes like peaches.

"I can't believe you've never had a Bellini." Alice says, shocked.

"Umm...no?" I tell her. "I'd never had shots of Patron before I met you either, but I liked that."

Esme takes another long pull of her drink and looks over at the two of us before speaking. "Really, girls? Shots of Patron? Is this what your higher education consists of?"

"Well, mother," Alice say seriously. "Bella needed the shots in order to practice…servicing Edward's apparently enormous, cream-filled banana. I'm sure you understand."

"Alice!" I exclaim, my face blushing furiously as I remember the Twinkie.

Esme is laughing and she reaches over to pat me on my leg.

"Don't be embarrassed, Bella," she says. "We're all ladies here. There's nothing wrong with a little girl-talk. Though, I'd find it interesting to know how one practices that."

I can tell Alice is about o say something so I shoot her a look that lets her know that I really don't want her to say anything else. Esme doesn't seem to notice as she takes another drink, and continues to say something.

"You know, I often do a couple of shots whenever Carlisle wants me to…"

A man appears and interrupts her.

_Thank fuck. _

There is no way I need to know what she was going to say.

"Mrs. Cullen, your estheticians are ready for you and your daughter. Ms. Swan, your manicurist will be with you in just a moment."

After they leave, I pull out my phone and text Edward, asking him if his mother tends to drink too much. His response is nearly immediate and I wonder if he's missing me as much as I'm missing him.

"**Um, yes. You remember yesterday and the mimosas?"**

This makes sense. Esme is clearly a WASP. I have never really been around people like the Cullen's. My family is so different. My father drinks beer - not Bellinis. But I really like them…even with their penchant to over-share. I text him back asking about the ballroom dancing. I hope it doesn't embarrass him, but truly I think it's adorable. Just like him.

"**I am waiting on the manicurist right now. Do you want to tell me about when you took ballroom dancing lessons with your Mom? Are you a good dancer, Dr. Masen?"**

As soon as my phone pings, I smile at his response.

"**I'll assume that you are attempting humor and not really asking me that question. Yes. My mother likes to tango and foxtrot. I can show you, Bella. My instructor said I'm quite good."**

Oh, Edward. You're so good at everything. And he is. So, I text him back and try to flirt with him a little.

"**I'm all for anything that involves you showing me your moves. The tango is a pretty seductive dance. :)"**

I hold my breath as I wait for his response. Please flirt with me, Edward. I miss you.

"**Not with your own mother, but I'll admit to some interesting possibilities with you."**

I flush as I text him back, all the while imagining him dancing (with me – not his mother). Holding me in his arms…pressed up against his body.

I quickly send him another text.

"**Can't you just imagine? You in your James Bond tux…and me in a red silk dress cut down to…there?"**

I bite my lip and hope that he's imagining me the same way I'm imagining him.

"**I have the tux. Do you have the dress? Maybe you could go buy one. I'd really love to see that. And do that."**

Truthfully, I can't even imagine myself in that dress…but I want to. It is a fantasy after all. My boobs would probably fall out of anything that low-cut and while Edward might enjoy that I don't know how sexy that actually is. I think about women in those dresses. There is no way they wear a bra and silk is _really_ thin. I wonder how their nipples don't show through. Mine would be as hard as glass…especially if I was dancing with Edward. They must use tape. Or those petal things I saw at the department store once. My train of thought is interrupted by the same man coming to tell me that it's time for my manicure.

After the manicure and the facial, I am sitting with Esme while we wait for Alice to finish. She is having another drink, but I declined this time, settling for a bottle of sparkling water because I know what tends to happen when I drink too much. A different and very handsome man walks in and talks to Esme about another appointment that she has scheduled. When he leaves, Esme turns to me and says, "You know, I thought that Edward was gay for a while."

I nearly choked on the water and then I laughed a little because I remember that I actually thought that Edward was gay when I first met him, too.

He so isn't.

"Anyway," she continues. "I tried to set him up with Eric, my stylist. Needless to say, that didn't go over very well."

"I'm guessing it didn't."

I want to ask her what happened, because let's face it; there isn't much that Esme probably wouldn't share with me…or anyone.

"Well, after that incident, he started dating the little tart, Jessica."

I giggle again, unable to stop myself. No one knew what had happened between Jessica and me at the airport. I would never tell Edward…ever. It would only embarrass him. Plus, even though I was more than happy with the way I handled myself. I wasn't very lady-like. It pleases me immensely that his mother seems to think of her the same way that I do.

"Edward told me about her."

"I would hate to think that my pushing Edward toward the rainbow flag had anything to do with him actually dating her, but I'm afraid it did," she tells me sincerely and I think I love her a little more than I did before. "I mean, I wouldn't have minded Edward being gay. Every mother could a good, gay son. You know…someone that won't let you wear pants with an elastic waist when you get older."

She winks at me and I smile.

"Well, I'm sure that Edward can make sure you don't wear anything with elastic, Esme," I tell her giggling.

"You're right, Bella," she says. "And he shouldn't have to take it up the…"

"Are we ready to go shopping?" Alice asks excitedly as she walks in and once again, I am thrilled that Esme didn't have the chance to finish her thought.

I am nodding my head and gathering my things when Esme speaks again.

"You know, Bella," she starts. "Speaking of asses…"

_Fuck my life._

_I was relieved too soon._

"Carlisle really likes a little ass-play when I'm going downtown."

"Mom," Alice says sharply. "I told you I didn't want to know anything else about Dad."

She turns to me and offers an apologetic smile, but not before whispering, "But you know…Jazz likes that too."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

So, I'm officially mortified. Well, I've been pretty much humiliated all day. I would never have imagined that someone as straight-laced and serious as Edward could come from a family like this, but clearly, I was wrong. There is nothing wrong with them. God knows, I love Alice…and I love his mom, too. I just don't love knowing that that Dr. Cullen has a huge cock and well…I _really_ don't like knowing about any sort of 'ass-play'. There are some things that need to remain personal. And here I thought that my mom was out there. Say what you want about Renee Swan – she might have burned her bra, but she has never once told me about Charlie's banana…or that _Anal-Ease_ is the best lube for men.

However, it should be noted that Esme told me over her martini at lunch that Republican men – like my father – tend to be sexually repressed…and that he probably would benefit from something a little more 'creative and exploratory' in bed.

I ordered a martini then, too.

And I drank it all…_quickly._

I'm still holding my phone from when I read my last text from Edward. He told me he loved me…and that we had all night. I can't wait. I hope his day went better with his new brother-in-law. Jasper really is a nice man. And even though he's very different from Edward, he seems to have made Alice blissfully happy.

My phone rings and I know it's not Edward. His ringtone is still different from everyone else. I look at the screen and see that it's Rose. I push the call button and answer.

"Rose, hey…what's up?"

"Oh my god, Bella!"

I am immediately concerned by the tone of her voice.

"What?"

"Emmett is here!"

This doesn't surprise me, based on what Edward has said.

"And?"

"And he's knocking on the door!" she yells into the phone, exasperated.

"Well, answer the door, Rose."

"I have nothing to say to him."

"I think you do."

"He says he won't leave until I talk to him."

"You should definitely talk to him."

"Why? He didn't want to talk the other night after we had sex…on every surface of the apartment."

_Every surface of the apartment?_

I wonder if I should tell her what he said to Edward on the phone the morning after I got here. I am conflicted because I don't want to share something that isn't mine to share. Plus, I would never want to break Edward's trust. It is then that I hear Emmett's voice through the phone. It's muffled, but the words are very clear.

"Rose…just…please…"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**End Notes**  
**Please leave us some love and review!**

**Thank you so much for all the love for the last chapter. And thank you for allowing us to take a week off last week so that we could watch Eclipse 10 times and stare at Edward's sideburns and lips and jawline...and well, Edward.**

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	18. Re: First Dates and Last Nights

**Chapter 17**

**Re: First Dates and Last Nights**

**EPOV**

"Edward?" Emmett says in an unnecessarily loud voice – I hold my phone away from my ear so I don't develop tinnitus. I have perfect hearing; he should know that. I share the results of all of my physicals with him.

"Good morning, Emmett. How are things in California?" I ask (in a normal tone). I'm curious about what happened between him and Rosalie.

"I – It just – well, fuck," he sighs in frustration. "Remember when I texted you that I had a "fucking emergency?" Well, now I have a non-fucking emergency. I guess it's better than nothing, well, technically it is nothing. . . maybe we can dry hump or something. . . I need to see if that's within the rules. . .let me write that on my list. . ." His voice trails off, he presumably he is writing on the aforementioned list. I can only imagine the heading on such a document that includes a bullet-point of "dry humping."

"Emmett, please explain yourself. You're not making much sense right now. I don't have the context in which to comprehend your ramblings," I speak quietly so I won't wake Bella. It's 11:00 in the morning but she went back to sleep after our morning, um, activities. Yeah, that was a polite way to say we had morning sex and I wore her out.

"I went back to see Rosalie yesterday. I. . .couldn't stay away," his voice is soft. "She's just. . ." he sounds like he's searching for the right word, which is surprising due to his ample vocabulary. "She's pretty fucking awesome," he groans. He needed time to come up with that statement? I hope he didn't use those words in front of her – hmm, maybe that's why there's a "non-fucking" list.

"I heard you went over there. Rosalie called Bella. But we don't know what happened. Did you break another small appliance? Did you at least disinfect the apartment after? I mean, really when I think of what I'll see if I shine my black light over the surfaces –" He cuts me off.

"Can you turn off the Mr. Clean bullshit, Edward? This is my fucking life here!" He's obviously upset, because he usually doesn't yell at me. "You're my best friend and the smartest person I know and I need some help on how to not fu- um, be. . .uh, celibate? I mean, you've been doing it for most of your life." he says this in a calmer voice.

I bristle immediately, insulted that I could be considered an expert at 'not fucking.' Then I think of this past week with Bella and I start laughing uncontrollably. I sound quite silly, giddy even. Hmm, I should research the after effects of strong orgasms on the brain.

"What the hell are you laughing about? Oh, shit. You've been getting laid more than fucking Tiger Woods, well, fucks."

_The golfer? _

The surprise in his voice annoys me. "I will neither confirm nor deny the occurrence of intercourse, nor the frequency of said dalliances because I will not compromise Bella's reputation. And I am offended when you say that I was merely getting laid," I retort. "Even if, hypothetically, I was performing such a task with such skill and diligence and affection that my girlfriend had to take naps to regain her strength." I heard a thump and some noise. I hope that wasn't vulgar or vain. I did say it was hypothetical. "And for the record, we don't fuck."

"Sorry, I dropped my phone. Damn, Edward. I'm really happy for you. And more than a little jealous."

I can't help but feel proud. I stroke my Bella's satin skin while I listen to Emmett tell me what happened between him and Rosalie. She moans quietly and shifts her body toward me. Even while asleep, she gravitates toward me. I smile in amazement. Celibate, my ass.

Emmett then tells me about the agreement he made with Rosalie that led to the "list" of activities Emmett is trying to negotiate. They aren't having sex for a month - not counting the three weeks before we move. A sexbargo. That's what he called it. They seem to have come to some sort of understanding that she will give him a chance if he can prove that he is not a complete "man-whore." This is funny, because a few months ago Emmett used those very words to describe the way he used to be – I recall him singing some song about being a virgin touched for the very first time – it was rather explicit. I don't mention this but instead I try to be a good friend. I owe Emmett for Miami. . .and therefore Bella.

I guess I owe him my life.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**BPOV**

_**"Call me as soon as you get this."**_

I look at the text from Rosalie and I wonder what's going on with her. I just woke up and Edward is in the shower, so I decide to call because I really am wondering what happened with her and Emmett. The phone barely has a chance to ring before I hear her answer.

"What the hell took you so long?"

Alright, maybe 'answer' is the wrong description for her 'greeting.'

"I'm sorry, Rose, but I just woke up."

"Fuck, Bella. If I had known you were just sleeping, I would have called to wake your ass up. This is important."

She sounds upset, but honestly...she's like that most of the time. If I wasn't so used to it, I would probably be short with her.

"Why didn't you call?"

"Well, I didn't want to interrupt you if you were fucking Edward."

"First of all, I don't fuck Edward," I say, rolling my eyes. "And secondly, if I was doing anything with Edward, I wouldn't have answered the phone."

"Why?" she says dryly. "Because your mouth would have been busy?"

I want to be pissed at her statement, but I can't. Because honestly, my mouth probably would have been busy. Kissing or licking…or sucking. I briefly wonder if Edward would like some company in the shower, but then I remember my friend who's being a bitch because her love life isn't in a great place. Although, having sex on every surface in the apartment sounds pretty fucking good to me.

"My mouth is none of your concern. And yes…it probably would have been busy," I tell her, giggling.

"So, Emmett," she starts.

"Yes. Did you let him in?"

"Yes, because he was pounding on the door like a goddamn caveman. I mean really, like he was Fred-fucking-Flintstone or something."

"Does that make you Wilma?" I ask, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, well…he certainly would want to give me a pearl necklace."

"You think he wants to give you jewelry?" I ask and I think Emmett doesn't seem so bad after all. "Though, I think a pearl necklace is much more Edward's speed."

She snorts and starts coughing.

"Yes, Bella. I'm sure Edward would love _nothing_ more than to give you a pearl necklace," she says. "In fact, I think you should ask him for one."

"I'm not asking Edward for jewelry," I tell her.

"Bella, I miss the shit out of you," she says and I can hear her smile through the phone.

"I really miss you too," I tell her. "Now, tell me what happened with Emmett."

"Well, after I let him in, he told me that he wanted to talk. And when I asked him if by "talking" he meant "fucking', he told me no. Which is really hard to believe because the man really likes to fuck. And Jesus, he's so good at it…the fucking, not the talking. Well, that's what I thought at least."

"What do you mean, Rose?"

"So, here's the thing. He said he wanted to try having a relationship."

"Isn't that what you want, though?"

"Of course it is, Bella," she all but screams. "I mean, I would love to have a relationship, but Emmett is not relationship material. He's a manwhore. I know his type. Hell, I _am_ his type. Well, I was…but I'm not anymore."

"I don't see the problem here, Rose. It sounds to me like Emmett and you want the same thing."

I hear her sigh loudly.

"Well, that's the thing," she starts. "After _a lot_ of talking - and that motherfucker was right - he really did want to talk. Anyway, he apologized for the way he treated me in Miami."

"You never did really tell me what happened there."

"Well, when I tried to flirt with him, he told me that he wasn't looking for another dumb-blonde bar skank."

"_He said what_?" I asked, appalled that he would say something like that.

"Well, to be fair…I was sort of giving him that impression. But still…he called me dumb!"

"You're more upset about _dumb_ than you are about _bar skank_?"

"Of course," she says, like I just asked her the most ridiculous question ever. "Wouldn't you be?"

"Uhh…no." I tell her decidedly.

"Whatever. Anyway…he apologized because he knew he was wrong. And then he was saying all these really sweet things about wanting to try with me and how he thought we could be great together. He also kept saying that he wanted what Edward had…and I had to tell him that I really didn't do email. I mean, no offense, but I really need more than a letter. He thought that was pretty funny and I'll admit, we had a laugh at your expense."

"Fuck you."

"I think you're currently at fucking capacity," she laughs. "You know I'm just teasing. I'm really happy for you, Bella. You deserve to be happy. You also deserve to be fucked, at least one of us should be fucking."

She wasn't making any sense. She seemed all over the place. Her voice was biting one moment and wistful the next. I wonder if she's hormonal.

"What do you mean?" I ask. "And I told you that I wasn't fucking Edward."

"Right. _Making love_…_consummating your relationship_…_two souls joining their bodies until they become one_. Christ, Bella. You're such a girl."

I look up at the sound of the bathroom door opening. Edward is standing there and even though we had sex this morning, just the sight of him standing there in nothing but a towel makes me want to do it again.

"Rose…I need to cut this short," I tell her and Edward grins at me.

"Let me just finish telling you. I told Emmett that we could try, but I cock-blocked myself and told him that if he really wanted to be my boyfriend, he would have to do it without sex. He has to prove to me that he wants more than that."

"But you want to have sex with him."

"I know, but I think I want him more than I want the sex."

"Rose, I'm really proud of you."

"Shut the hell up, Bella. This is going to kill me."

-x-x-x-x-x-

**EPOV**

I'm a bit nervous getting ready for our date. It's actually our first date, though we've had satisfying and frequent sexual relations. Oh, and we confessed our love for each other – rather publicly – in the airport. So, all in all, not a normal first date. I don't think I'm going to get a formal handshake and a wrong number tonight which was my previous, albeit limited, experience.

I double check our tickets and confirm our reservations before I finish putting on my suit (I'm trying to avoid wrinkles). Bella is still in the bathroom presumably primping for our date. I don't know what is taking so long. She doesn't need to do anything special to be beautiful for me. She already is.

I button my shirt and tie my necktie while I wait. I am slipping on my jacket in the living room when she emerges. . .she is breathtaking in her midnight blue dress. That wasn't an exaggeration. I actually didn't breathe for a moment – thoughI was in no immediate danger of respiratory distress. The fabric hugs her body in delightful ways, making me want to caress the arc of her hip. . .the curve of her breast. . .

She looks down for a moment, then peers up at me, expectantly, nervously. I can't fathom what she'd be nervous about. I know it can't be my reaction. Surely she must know that I adore her? Am I not expressing my feelings enough? I realize I haven't said a word – I was merely running dirty fantasies in my mind instead of complementing her beauty.

"Bella, you look stunning. I'm desperately trying to come up with a descriptor that will adequately express how beautiful you look, but I'm unable to capture my feelings in word form." I stand in awe for a second after I speak, my brain taking too long to signal movement in my limbs.

She sighs and says, "You, too. You look stunning, I mean. Wait. Is is alright to say you look stunning? Would you prefer I say handsome? You are handsome, but well..it just doesn't seem to do you justice."

I close the space between us, wrapping one arm around her waist and my other hand gently caressing her cheek. I kiss her gently, sweetly on the mouth and say, "May I be your escort for this evening, Miss Swan? I would be honored if you would accompany me to dinner and the symphony."

Bella replies, "I would love to, Edward. So much."

I bow, just like Nana Cullen taught me, and hold out my hand. She places her hand in mine, and I gently touch my lips to it. Nana said that was how you treated special ladies.

And Bella is the only woman who has ever been special to me.

Will ever be special to me.

I tuck her arm in mine and walk her to my car, opening her door and helping her in. She works the stereo probably because she doesn't want to hear the medical lectures that dominate my iPod. She has been adding songs to it all week and I'm anxious to hear what sort of music she enjoys.

I'm surprised that I recognize the tune, "Let's Stay Together." I haven't really bothered much with current artists, but classics I know. My mother and father would slow dance to this when I was young. I grasp her hand and smile at her. "I really like that song, Bella. It holds good memories."

She returns my smile. "I don't know about the memories, but I hope it means something to your future."

"You mean us, right? Staying together? Yes, Bella. I've already written you into my long-term plans." I mean that literally. I have Bella in my planner and she has the majority of my time. Her look tells me that she approves.

When we arrive at the restaurant, the maitre d' seats us at a secluded table just like I requested. Our server promptly arrives to take our drink order. He looks at Bella first, then at me. His eyes widen a bit.

"Good evening, my name is, um, Riley and I'll be your server tonight," he says, nervously. Maybe he's new. Wait, did he just mumble something about being fuckhot? The temperature seems comfortable to me. I smile to reassure him.

He looks at me, well, stares at me with his mouth slightly open. I must be taking too long to order.

"Bella, do you enjoy champagne?" I ask, turning to her and reaching for her hand. The waiter gasps.

"Is it anything like Boone's Farm? That has bubbles,too," she laughs softly. I grin and order a vintage that my father recommends. I've never heard of Boone's Farm; maybe it's a California sparkling wine.

Riley, the waiter, looks at me strangely and then leans over and whispers, "You have excellent taste." He glances at Bella. "I mean in champagne." He turns abruptly and walks away. Of course I do. Dad taught me all about wine.

Bella rolls her eyes and giggles at our retreating waiter. I didn't think that comment was very humorous, but I'm not known for my sense of humor.

He returns with the champagne, which he pours for us.

"Oh," Bella exclaims, "this is delicious, Edward." I watch her flick her tongue out to catch the flavor on her lips. God, that's more intoxicating than the alcohol. I slide closer to her my nose nuzzling her neck and place my hand on her thigh, running my thumb along the inside flesh.

The waiter looks annoyed and says, "Um, hello. Are you ready?" His hand is on his hip. He must be uncomfortable with public displays of affection. Not that we were doing much. Maybe he is very conservative and or religious. I turn and give him a comforting smile.

He whispers, "Jesus." See, I'm right. I'm getting better at reading people.

We place our orders with Riley, which is what he insisted that I call him. He was very thorough, going over the menu very carefully as he asked me what I liked and if I ever tried new things. He must want a really large tip from me.

"He's a very caring waiter, isn't he?" I ask when he finally leaves us alone.

"Yes, Edward. He's very interested in pleasing you." Bella chuckles and rolls her eyes. "So, tell me about what we are going to hear tonight. I've never been to the symphony before." As we eat, I tell her about the tonight's performance of piano concertos, which is one of my favorites. I share my love of music with. . . my love. And I feel like I'm flying (like Superman, not in a plane) because my love's eyes are shining as she looks at me. We hear a throat clearing and it's Riley asking for our desert order. I'm about to answer, but Bella responds before I can.

"_I'm_ going to feed him dessert later. . .he's going to be very hungry." She's rubbing my neck and my earlobe and it's making me. . .well, erect. Riley huffs away after shooting Bella a look that didn't seem too polite. She smirks at his reaction, and when her hand brushes the hard bulge in my lap, she grins. I can't help but smile back. Any other time or person, and I would be humiliated. With Bella, I'm rather proud.

Riley returns with the check which he places in front of me with a smile and a sigh. I see that there is a business card included with the bill. His card. Hmm, that's strange.

I leave a very generous gratuity for his trouble and when he picks up the folder with the bill I say, "Here's your card. I think you made a mistake. I'm a doctor, Riley. I don't think I'm going to need an amateur trapeze artist or a finalist from So You Think You Can Dance. But best of luck in all your endeavors."

He looks astonished and then says to Bella, "Well, I tried. Lucky bitch." With that he storms off.

_What just happened?_

-x-

-x-

-x-

"These were such wonderful seats, Edward," Bella breathes. "Thank you for bringing me."

"Thank you for coming with me. The seats are no big deal. My mother is on the board. We come here all the time, although this will probably be my last. I'll have to get us season tickets for the San Francisco Philharmonic. That is, if you want to go with me again." I lead her through the lobby, my hand on the small of her back.

"Okay. But you have to promise to come with me and watch Sage play the bongos on the corner by the student union," she replies.

_Who the fuck is Sage? And what sort of name is that? _I don't say that, but I want to. Instead, I remain calm and ask, "Is that a friend of yours?"

"Yes. She has temporarily suspended her college education until women are no longer plagued by sexism. I don't think she's ever going to graduate."

"Oh. Um, I am personally against sexism, too, though that doesn't seem like a very productive social protest."

Outside, we enter the valet line, hand in hand. We've just had a perfect evening (well, except for the part where I was propositioned – Bella explained on the drive over) and I can't help but think that I don't want it to end. Obviously that's not possible because it is nearly midnight, but I was speaking figuratively. Bella's penchant for colorful language and musings has rubbed off on me.

Great. Now I'm thinking about Bella rubbing me. Hopefully the valet won't notice the result of my fantasies in my pants. I pull her closer to me; I can't bear to have space between us.

She's leaving tomorrow and now that I've been with her all week, I don't know how I'm going to let her go for three weeks. Hell, three days will be torture. I don't want tomorrow to come. She's going to leave me. It may cause me physical pain.

We get in my car, the air around us clouded with the realization that this is our last night together. I look at her, my emotions clearly visible in my eyes, in my expression - want, need, love.

She can see it and she conveys the same feelings in her gaze. She shudders and says, "Hurry, Edward."

-x-x-x-x-x-

**BPOV**

"I had a really wonderful time tonight, Edward," I tell him and I don't know why my voice is so soft and seems to get caught in my throat.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed it. I want to share all of the special things in my life with you," he says.

He's standing there across the room from me and all I can think about is how he's too far away. That is until I see him begin to loosen his tie. I'm feeling flushed and nervous as I watch his long fingers handle the silk. He briefly looks up and catches my eyes and I am somewhat embarrassed that he has caught me staring at him. I try to smile, but I'm sure I look like an idiot and I immediately look down and begin working on the tie of my own dress.

"I've been fantasizing about you untying that all night. But the reality is so much better."

I tell myself to breathe – that this is Edward. My boyfriend. The man I've been with every day for the last week. I've seen him naked. He's seen _me_ naked and we've done _naked_ things together…_a lot_. But there is something about the energy of this moment…this night. Maybe it's because it's my last night here and I will have to say goodbye to him tomorrow. Maybe it's because of the question that I want to ask him. Whatever it is – I feel it. And I think he feels it too.

I slide the dress from my shoulders and I am standing there in my slip. Normally I don't wear slips, but the dress that I was wearing tonight was pretty sheer. Since I couldn't find the red 'Tango' dress, Alice convinced me to get this one. So, I had to buy the slip because when I looked in the mirror, I could pretty much see _everything_. And well, I didn't think that Edward would appreciate that very much. At least not in public.

He seems to like seeing it in private.

When I look up, I notice that Edward has completely unbuttoned his white shirt. It's open and his tie is undone and still hanging around his neck. His chest is exposed along with his stomach and I can't help but stare at the soft trail of hair that I see as it disappears inside his pants. I take a moment to think about the hair. It's really soft. I wonder if he conditions it or something. I try not to think about that too much because really, that would be weird. And my Edward is not weird. He's perfect.

And speaking of perfect….fuck me, he has never looked more gorgeous than he does right now. Not ever. He's looking at me and I'm not sure what he sees, but I feel my own eyes travel from the intensity of his green ones down to his lips. Jesus. He is licking them. Seriously. I think he's trying to kill me. Or at the very least – seduce me.

_No need to work so hard, Edward. I am seduced. Mind and body. You can put your tongue back in your mouth. No, wait! Don't…wait…I don't know!_

I have decided that Edward should always wear a suit. Or maybe just half-wear it the way he is right now. Because there is no pair of jeans that could make his ass look that good. And a t-shirt wouldn't hang open like that, allowing me to see the dips and curves of his muscles…his abdominal muscles…his abs.

_Wait – what was I thinking? _

Oh, right…Edward should always wear a suit.

"You look really good in that, you know," I say and I internally roll my eyes at how stupid I sound.

"Thank you," he says and I warm even more at the sound of his voice. "I do?"

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth and chew on it nervously.

"Yeah, you do. I was just thinking that you should always wear a suit. I mean…not that you don't look good in jeans and other stuff, but the suit is just…well…it's just…" I ramble.

"It's not very practical. How would I run or do sit-ups?"

I am momentarily distracted by the thought of him working out before I hear him speaking again.

"I sweat quite profusely during my workouts. Dry-cleaning might not be thorough enough."

"I mean, well, it's just a thought," I say. "I know that you obviously can't wear it all the time. Like, you'll have to wear workout clothes and oh, scrubs at the hospital. I'll bet you look good in those. Well really, you look good in everything, but you look especially good right now."

"You're the one that looks gorgeous. I can't believe you're mine - I mean my girlfriend."

"You were right the first time, Edward," I sigh. "I am yours."

Before I lose my nerve, I slip out of my shoes and I slowly walk over to him. Slowly – because I'm nervous. Slowly – because I want to look at him a little longer. When I am standing before him, I trail my hand down his chest and across the hair that I was just looking at. He feels good…the hair is soft just like I knew it would be. As I cast my eyes downward, I notice that his hair is the only thing that's soft. I can see his erection through his pants. It's swollen and pressing against the fabric. The right thing to do – I reason – would be to take it out. Release it from its constraints.

I hear him take a deep breath and I feel his body shudder from my touch as I lower my hand, unbuttoning his pants and lowering the zipper. I want to be sexy…and not stupid. I want to make him feel the way he makes me feel – the way he's made me feel every day that I have been here. Trying not to over-think this, I do what I want to do. I lower myself to my knees in front of him, pulling his pants and boxers down with me as I go.

"Oh, Bella. Are you going to..." he breathes.

I take him in my hand. His skin is soft and even now – even after this whole week together – I am still amazed by how beautiful he is. I want to suck him. How could I possibly not want to suck him and have him in my mouth? Christ. I'm practically salivating at the thought. I look up at him one more time. He is looking at me. His expression is needy…needy like me.

"May I?" I ask. "Is this alright? Do you…do you want this?"

"God, yes. Please, Bella."

With his words I tentatively lick around his tip. It's already wet and this encourages me because I know that it means that he wants it…wants me. I hear him groan above me and it strikes me that I make him sound that way. Me…here on my knees. There is power in this position of subservience. Yet, I don't feel submissive. I feel like I am taking what I want…doing what makes me feel good. And it makes me feel good to do this. To love him this way.

And I do love him.

It is with that thought that I take him in my mouth. I don't feel as nervous as before or as inexperienced as I did when I first got here. I know that I like this. I love this. I love the way he tastes and the way he feels. I love that his hands are in my hair now, clutching it softly. I love that I know if I relax a little more that he is able to slide further in. I didn't know that a week ago. I learned that with Edward. We have learned so much together this week.

My hands have slipped around to his hips and I am gripping him and pressing my fingers into his flesh. I hum around his cock because I know that it feels good. He cries out my name and it feels like validation – like he is praising me while I worship at the altar of his sex. And I can't imagine a thing that I would rather be more devoted to in this moment…until I do.

I wonder if…

He might like it if…

Can I do that? Would he even want me to do it? I look up at him and his eyes are watching me. He's whimpering and saying my name and I don't know that I have ever felt this intimate with him before. Not that we haven't been this intimate – we have. It's just that every time it seems to get better. There seems to be more. And with that thought, I find the courage that I need. Because Edward makes me feel like there is nothing I can't do or say.

He loves me and my endless words.

I pull back and he slips from my mouth. I'm about to say something when I notice how shiny his cock looks when it's wet. The tip is almost purple (which is my favorite color) and it almost looks like it's sparkling in the soft light of his room. I really want to reach out and touch it again, but I remember what I want to do.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks, anxiety apparent in his voice.

"Everything is perfect," I tell him.

_You can do this, Bella._

_Fuck. He's going to think I'm crazy._

No, wait. I'll bet he'd really like it. I mean there's not one part of my pussy that I wouldn't want him to lick or suck or touch.

_Fuck. Now I really want him to touch my pussy._

Taking his cock in my hand, I kiss the tip one more time before I bring my other hand up to touch his balls. I reach back too far and I graze his ass. He gasps wildly and I can literally feel every muscle in that area clench.

_Yeah, Edward is not like his father._

_He is definitely not into that. _

I quickly move my hand forward and cup his balls. I feel the weight of them in my hand and I am fascinated by how when I squeeze and stroke them gently, they seem to tighten in response.

I dip my head and I begin to lick his tip again. Edward is making inarticulate noises above me and I think that I'm doing this right. I lick up and down his length, feeling the heat of his smooth skin on my tongue. I can almost feel the pulsing of the blood before I suck his cock back into my mouth…_and I moan_. Because fuck me, Edward's cock is in my mouth and I'm massaging his balls and I think I might love it.

"Oh, fuck. That's it, baby," he groans.

With his words, he comes in my mouth and I swallow it all as I look up at him. His eyes are closed, but after a moment he opens them and they are hooded, happy. I pull back; resting on my heels, but Edward will have none of that. He pulls me up and into his arms and he kisses me. I wonder if he can taste himself…I'm sure he can, but he doesn't seem to mind so I lose myself in his kiss.

"That was. . .wow. What am I going to do without you for three weeks?"

"Well, you won't be doing that, so I thought I'd try to make it memorable," I giggle and he kisses me again.

It's much later and we are lying on the bed. Edward is drawing circles on my back and I am kissing his chest. He just made love to me again and I wonder how I will ever be able to stand the next three weeks without him. I also wonder how he was able to do it again tonight, but I'm pretty sure I don't care. I like that he's insatiable…like he can't get enough. It still amazes me that it's me he can't get enough of. Because I definitely can't get enough of him. Even though, I have to admit…I'm a little sore down there. I'll bet he would kiss it if I asked.

I feel like I don't want to sleep – I want nothing more than to enjoy every second of every moment that I have left with him. I know that's impossible, though. Even now my eyes are heavy, my body content and relaxed. I hear him try to stifle a yawn and I know I need to ask him before we have to sleep.

"I have something I want to ask you," I tell him, pulling my head back so that I can look at him.

"Ask me. If I don't know the answer, I'll find it quickly."

"Well, I know that you're coming out a little while before your residency starts," I tell him as he pulls me closer. "And well, I was wondering if you wanted to come to Arizona with me to meet my parents."

He looks at me, not saying anything and I wonder if I shouldn't have asked him this. I can't read his expression and in my nervousness, my body tenses and I begin to ramble.

"You don't have to. It's just…I just…well, I thought that you would want to. Also, you asked me to meet your parents and I wanted to meet them. Really, I did. My family is a lot different from yours. Well…in a lot of ways, really. I mean, Charlie doesn't play golf and will probably want to take you fishing. You probably don't even like fishing, do you? And Renee…well, I already told you that she was a hippie, but I promise that she won't get drunk and tell you that she likes to do weird sexual things with my father. He's really conservative and I'm pretty sure he would only like the missionary position…and oh, god! Now I'm talking about my parents having sex…"

_Shut up, Bella!_

Before I can say another stupid word, Edward's lips are on mine and he is kissing me deeply. I have to pull back because really, I'm out of breath. From the talking and the kissing. Oxygen fills my lungs and apparently makes its way to my brain because I realize that if he is kissing me…he must not be opposed to it.

"While I may not relish a conversation about your parents' sex life; I am grateful that they had sex at least one time or you wouldn't be here. Of course I'll go with you, Bella. I'd go anywhere, do anything with you."

I know he means it and I have never been so happy. Well, except for every other day that I have been with him since I got here. At some point, my life became perfect. I'm not sure if I can pinpoint the exact moment, but I'm pretty sure that I was covered in scotch.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**End Notes**

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cosmogirl7481: I want to recc' a fic that is completely owning my ass right now. _Paper CutOuts_ by twistedcoincidence and astilbe13. It is a collaboration and you know that we have a soft-spot for that. But on top of that, it's a really unique story with characters that I love more and more with every chapter! Please check it out. It's posted on both the author's pages.

Marvar: My rec is the mystery/thriller _The Confidence Man_ by OhMyWord. It's not like my normal fluff, but I'm in love. The prologue will suck you in. Find it on my favorites list.


	19. Re: Wings and Things

**Chapter 18**

**Re: Wings and Things**

**BPOV**

I'm sitting in my seat on the plane. No, scratch that. I'm sitting in my very comfortable leather seat on the plane because Edward insisted on upgrading my ticket to first class. I tried to get him to donate the extra money to charity or to spend it on something more useful like maybe an "I Belong to Bella" t-shirt or a new supply of anti-bacterial wipes for his car, but he insisted. He told me that he wanted me to be as comfortable as possible. And my body is comfortable, but my heart…my heart is not.

So, I cried at the airport. I didn't really want to. In fact, I told myself that I wasn't going to, but when we were there and he was hugging me, I just couldn't help myself. I felt bad – I feel bad still – but saying goodbye to him was so fucking hard.

"May I get you something to drink?" the flight attendant asks and pulls me from my thoughts.

"Umm…yeah," I tell her. I need a drink. I need a real drink. "What would you order if you just left the man that you loved? Oh, and you cried in the airport like a big, fucking girl? And also, he's perfect and wonderful and even gave you a letter that he wrote to read on the flight home. What would _you_ order?"

She's looking at me like I'm crazy and maybe I am. Well, not _actually_ crazy, but I'm pretty sure I would qualify to be a research participant in some study for anti-depressants. And now I'm laughing because that is so something Edward would think about.

"Well, dear it _is _the morning," she says and smiles softly. "I think that if all of that happened, I would order a screwdriver."

"What's in that?"

"Vodka and orange juice."

"Okay," I tell her, wiping my tears. "I'll have that."

Great.

It's morning and I am having to resort to drinking hard liquor.

_Who am I? Edward's mother?_

The thought of that makes me laugh and I wonder if maybe my swing in moods means that I'm hormonal. No, I'm not. I'm just bummed.

Three weeks.

Twenty-one days.

Five hundred and four hours.

And now I'm hearing the theme song to Rent in my head.

Awesome.

Stupid musical that seems really happy, but in the end it's really sad.

The flight attendant finishes making my drink and hands the glass to me. It's actual glass and not the little plastic cups that they give you in coach. It's nice and I wonder if the small things like this are the reason Edward wanted to upgrade my ticket. He is always thinking about me. Always. I take a drink and close my eyes and when I do, I see Edward. And then I remember that he gave me a letter.

I reach in my bag and pull it out. I gave him a letter, too. And I smile at the thought. This is just another reason…another confirmation that Edward is the one. He is perfect and wonderful and most importantly…he is mine.

_Bella,_

_I'm gazing at your lovely face as I'm writing this. Yes, I'm hand-writing this because it seems more personal. I wanted you to have something to read on the plane, and flight safety doesn't allow for emails or text messages (I wouldn't want the Flight Marshall to trouble you). There are many things I want to say but I can't find words for how I feel other than I love you with all of my being - mind and body. I don't know if I've adequately expressed this to you this week._

_This week. It's been the best of my existence. Better than when I found out about early admission to Dartmouth, only slightly better than a certain trip to Miami - because this time I know I get to keep you. By that I mean your heart and your body - a great package deal - and obviously not in a souvenir-type situation. I know sometimes I sound possessive, but I just want to be with you all of the time. The next three weeks will be torture for me now that I know what it's like to have you with me - in my bed, in my life._

_I briefly contemplated not washing my linens so that your scent would remain, but after further consideration I will settle for the t-shirt you wore because of sanitary issues. (Please don't think that I'm doing something untoward with it, I'm only using it for olfactory stimulation.) This is but a dim reminder of you, but it's all I have of you until I see you again._

_You just moved. Did you know your body curls towards me when you sleep? It's like you are seeking me out subconsciously. Do you know that your little sighs and breaths are sexier and more erotic than anything I have ever read or seen? I contemplated video taping you, but I thought that might cross the line of acceptable behavior. And I also didn't have an adequate permission/release form for you to sign. So I had to commit to memory every minute of that - I have never been happier to have a photographic memory._

_I look forward to meeting your parents. I would really appreciate some information so I can better acquaint myself with them. Would it be possible for you to email a small dossier of pertinent facts? The Internet had very little information. I don't need photos or credit scores or anything like that - a brief bio would suffice. I would like to make a good impression on them, and I have found that possessing prior knowledge is always desirable._

_Bella, my love, so much has happened this week - all of it perfect and wonderful (except for Jasper) - I hope that you share in my joy because my heart is so full and I can only share it with you._

_All my love,_

_Edward_

The man sitting next to me is looking really uncomfortable because I am really crying now. Well, fuck him. I don't really care what he thinks. I do care that my screwdriver is now empty and I really need another one.

His letter was beautiful...just like him.

I think about him writing it for me while I slept last night and I fall a little more in love with him. He said that he loved me - mind and body. I love him just the same.

_Maybe if I press this button, the nice lady with the little bottles of vodka will come back._

He also wants to meet my parents. Although I'm not sure I can provide him with a dossier. Fuck, I don't even think a dossier is required. I mean there are only like three things you need to know about my father.

1 - He loves to fish. A lot.

2 - He feels very strongly about upholding the law.

3 - John McCain is his hero. In fact, when he lost the presidential election, it was the second time I saw my father cry. The first time was when he chose Sarah Palin as his running mate.

"Did you need something else, dear?"

The lovely woman with the booze is back and now I'm slightly happier than before. Damn. They come a lot faster in first class. I just pressed that button like a minute ago.

"Yes," I tell her, sniffling. "Can I have another one of those screwdrivers?"

"Of course you can."

She makes me another cocktail and I think that it's probably good for me to get used to this. Esme will be living in California soon enough.

I wish I could call Edward. I wonder if he's read my letter yet. He looked so happy when I gave it to him. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for him.

Damn.

This drink is really good.

And I think it's making me sleepy.

I wonder if I can sleep the rest of the way home.

I down the rest of my drink and I read his letter one more time.

My last thoughts are of Edward as I fall asleep.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**EPOV**

My head hits the steering wheel as I take several calming breaths. My eyes water as I think of what is currently flying away from me. I feel as if I've been cleaved in two, and my wound is open and aching. My mother would say I'm in love, and love hurts. Emmett would call me a pussy.

Although, maybe his time with Rosalie has softened his brashness. And that thought brings me back to Bella. For a split second I felt better, but I'm cruelly brought back to reality. I trudge back inside my house, remembering her tears at the airport and how she grasped me. It felt like she never wanted to let go. I know that feeling.

I throw myself on my bed, sniffing her pillow. I'm beyond pathetic at this point. I've never felt this way before, but the pain of separation is price I have to pay to love Bella. I think about her on the plane. I wonder if she's still crying. Maybe she's reading my letter.

The letter. She gave me one too. I was so thrilled when she pulled it out of her bag. It was the only bright spot of our goodbye. I pull it out of my pocket and tear it open, eagerly smoothing the pages.

_Dear Edward,_

_So, leaving you sucks. Yeah. I just thought you should know that. And not in the good kind of sucking way. We just did that last night. I know. I'm really eloquent. I keep telling myself that it's only for three weeks and that it will be fine. We will write and talk and text….and I know you think it's degrading, but I wouldn't mind sexting you a bit either._

_I cannot begin to tell you what this week has meant to me. What this time with you has meant to me. You are more than I ever thought to hope for. You mean more than I ever expected you could mean. Not that I didn't love you before, because truly, I really think I did. It's just that you are…more. You are so much more, Edward. I don't know that words will ever be able to express it. And we both have a fairly considerable vocabulary._

_Did you know that you have a patch of moles on your back? There are seventeen of them. I counted them one night this week while you slept. Do you think that's creepy? Would you find it even creepier to know that I wanted to trace the pattern of them with my tongue? If it makes you feel better, you smiled in your sleep and whispered my name when I did it. Yes, my name is Bella Swan and I love the moles on my boyfriend's back. But I love him even more._

_21 days. 504 hours. That's how long it will be until I see you again. It's not that long when you think about it. Especially considering that we will be sleeping 168 of those hours. That brings us down to 336 hours. That's not bad at all. What is bad is the fact that I just had to use the calculator on my phone to figure that out. And even sadder, is the fact that I just wasted time figuring that out when I could have spent it telling you how much I love you._

_I do, Edward._

_So much._

_It's so strange to me that I wasn't looking for you at all and yet, there you were across a crowded room. Well, not so much a crowded room as a bar crammed full of intoxicated college students. I guess I shouldn't judge so harshly…I was one of them after all. And still, you saw me. Not only that, but you found me. And if I never thank you for anything…I want to thank you for that. Thank you for finding me, for putting yourself out there and asking me join you. I'm so glad I did, Edward. I would do it – every single bit of it – all over again._

_Including my areola journal._

_Do you think your moles are keeping one too?_

_A girl can hope._

_I love you._

_Always,_

_Bella_

Oh, Bella. I love that you feel the same way about me. Reading this makes me feel a bit better about our separation. It also doesn't hurt that it's filled with sexual innuendo and suggestive prose.

I consider the part about the moles. I should get a photo of my back so I can examine them for irregularities. I wonder if she would do that for me. Oh, of course she would. She said she would lick them. A photo is nothing. I think about Bella licking me. . . Sigh. Not for three more weeks. 504 hours. She didn't account for the time difference and travel time, but I like that she made the effort. I will figure that out later.

I read it again because it's my connection to her right now. I've memorized it of course, but that doesn't matter. I just need to touch it.

I place it on my bedside table so that I may read it before bed. I may need, um, a little help getting to sleep.

x-x-x-x-x-x

**BPOV**

"Do you want to get some ice cream?"

I'm at the mall with Rosalie in an attempt to get out of the apartment and stop thinking about how much we miss Edward and Emmett. Well, I miss Edward. Rosalie just keeps saying that it's better that Emmett's dick is three thousand miles away. Because apparently, one thousand miles would still be too close. (Clearly, Emmett's cock is even bigger than Edward's.)

_Yeah…there's no way._

We have lunch and get pedicures even though I just had one last week. I would say that it is working, but the need I have for milky, creamy sugar right now is telling me that the plan might be beginning to fail. Not that there is enough ice cream in the world to make me stop missing him, but it might make me feel a little better.

"Yes, Bella," she says sarcastically. "A thousand empty calories is exactly what I need. Maybe if my thighs get huge, Emmett won't _want_ to have sex with me and this fucking no-sex rule won't even matter."

I roll my eyes and laugh at my best friend.

"First of all, it would take a lot of fucking ice cream to make your thighs that big. And secondly, if you want me to continue shopping with you, you are going to have to take one for the team and eat some ice cream."

"Fine," she concedes. "But I don't want a banana split. I don't want anything phallic to remind me of sex…or Emmett…or sex with Emmett."

I laugh again and she glares at me.

"What the fuck are you laughing at, Swan?"

"If a banana reminds you of Emmett's…well, you know."

"You can say dick, Bella. Or cock. Jesus, you spent an entire week with one in you. You'd think you'd be able to at least say it now."

She rolls her eyes as we walk closer to the counter.

"Well, anyway," I start. "If a banana reminds you of Emmett's _dick_…no wonder you were able to say you wouldn't have sex with him for a month."

"Fuck you, Bella," she laughs. "And don't pretend like Dr. Feelgood is _that_ much bigger than a banana."

I pause for a moment. There really isn't anything I don't share with Rosalie, but the idea of talking to her about Edward's size is not something I necessarily want to do. Even though he is much bigger. It really is almost embarrassing how blessed Edward is in every department. I mean, he's intelligent, gorgeous beyond words and yeah, well…

"Bella, you're blushing," she says. "Like, you're really fucking blushing. Oh, my god! He is bigger!"

"Rosalie, I'm not going to talk to you about Edward's size."

"Well, fuck. You don't have to now," she says shaking her head. "Good for you."

The teenage boy behind the counter asks if he can take our order and Rosalie grins and says sweetly, "Yeah, I'll have a hot fudge sundae and Bella, what do you want? I don't think they have any cucumber melon ice cream."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

I am standing in the intimate apparel department looking at bras when my phone buzzes with a text message. It's from Edward and I smile before I even read it.

"**Hello, I'm currently "dining" at an establishment called Hooters. Have you heard of it? Emmett says it's popular for hot wings. I'm eating a salad and water."**

Hooters? Is he fucking kidding me with this? I briefly try to figure out how I should respond. I don't want to be the jealous girlfriend even though I _know_ he would die if I were to work in a place like that. And I think I have my response. Maybe he's kidding. Yeah. He _has_ to be kidding. There is no way that he would _actually_ tell me he was there. Well, _he_ would tell me, but I don't think that Emmett would ever let him.

I type out my response.

"**Really? That's awesome. I was thinking about getting a job there. I want to research degrading professions for women. Tell me where you really are. LOL"**

While I am waiting to see what he says, I pick up the matching panties to the bra in my hand. Funny that I never really cared about lingerie before.

"**I'm at Hooters. With Emmett. And you don't need a job, you are in graduate school. Is there something wrong? I am not degrading any women. I am always respectful."**

I giggle at his response because I know that he probably dying at the thought of me actually working in a place like Hooters. Serves him right for actually patronizing a place like that. Rosalie holds up a nightie that is beyond risqué and I nod for her to try it on. Maybe I should try one on too. I decide to take it a little further to try and make my point.

"**It wouldn't be a real job, baby. Just research for a paper. Tell me, what is your server wearing? I wonder if it comes in my size."**

He responds really quickly and I can't help but smile. I know it's probably wrong for me to be doing this, but really…did he learn nothing from the whole gym incident? He has to know that I wouldn't like him to be in a place like that anymore than he would like me to work in a place like that. Especially when he's all the way across the country from me.

"**Oh. I see. I hadn't noticed until you pointed it out."**

"Are you texting Edward, Bella?" Rosalie asks as she comes over to where I'm standing. "This is supposed to be our girl's day where we try to not think about them."

I look down at the items she's holding in her hand and then I look back up at her and smile.

"Oh, I'm sure that you chose all of that _without_ Emmett in mind."

"Shut the fuck up, Bella."

"By the way, Rose. Edward is having lunch with Emmett." She smiles at just the mention of his name. "At Hooters."

"Hooters?" she asks and then she begins to laugh. "_Of course_ they're at fucking Hooters."

I have to admit that her response is somewhat unexpected. I mean she doesn't really seem upset that much at all. Irritated, but not upset.

I text him back to let him know that I told Rosalie.

"**Oh, and tell Emmett that I'm here with Rosalie and that I'm telling her where you are. We are at the mall. We ate at the food court."**

His response is immediate.

"**Emmett just said, "Oh, fuck me."**

Rosalie is still laughing and I have to say, I'm pretty impressed with my best friend at the moment.

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Guys go to Hooters, Bella. It's just what they do. They can't fucking help themselves. It's really what makes them the weaker sex. They are all fascinated with boobs."

"Why is that?" I ask her, somewhat rhetorically. "I mean, women don't go to places where men's cocks are on display."

"I know. See what I mean? We are the superior sex." She holds a bra up against me and smiles before placing it in my hand. "Men will never be superior because they are constantly reading Playboy and telling us it's for the articles or going to fucking Hooters and telling us it's for the wings."

"Edward does _not_ 'go to Hooters'," I tell her, slightly irritated at the thought. "He's not like that, Rose. He's…different."

"Well, he can't be that fucking different, Bella. I mean, he _is_ there," she says as she picks up this lacy skirt thing with garter-belts attached. "It's not a big deal. Honestly. Do you think that any of the women that work in those places can actually hold a candle to us? Jesus, Bella. We are educated women. I will have my masters in engineering after this year…from one of the most prestigious schools in the country. So will you."

"Not in engineering," I tell her laughing.

I think about her words and I know that she's right. I have more to offer Edward than any perky blonde with big tits. Besides, Edward is in love with me…and my tits are kind of fantastic. (And real). He seems to like them a lot.

"But listen, don't tell Edward that I'm okay with this. I'm gonna fuck with Emmett a little bit right now. I might as well fuck _with_ him since I won't actually _be_ fucking him any time in the near future."

I realize that I still haven't replied to Edward, so I quickly type out a response.

**Oh, and what did you notice exactly, Dr. Masen?**

I wonder if he'll tell me what his server is wearing. I know it's basically glorified underwear. I hear Rosalie laughing and I wonder what she's texting Emmett.

The salesman comes over and offers to start a fitting room for us. He is clearly a gay man. He is wearing black trousers and a vest with a crisp pink shirt and tie. And even though he is a dark-skinned African American, I can see the pink shimmering eyeshadow on his lids. I look at his nametag and it says "Arthur". I feel sorry for him immediately. Poor Arthur. He sees me looking and says, "Girl, I know. _Arthur_. They won't let me use the name that all my girlfriends call me."

"What do your girlfriends call you?"

"Tweet."

"Tweet is awesome," I say smiling. "I'm Bella. Can I call you Tweet?"

"Honey, that would be fierce."

He takes us to our fitting rooms and before he shuts my door I hear my phone buzz with another text from Edward.

"**The waitresses have on rather tiny uniforms. It's not really a big deal, Bella. I see naked people all the time."**

Hmmm…I never really thought about that.

"Rose," I call over the fitting room wall. "Edward just made a really valid point."

"And what was that?"

"Umm…he said that what the women wear at Hooters isn't a big deal because he sees naked people all the time."

"Bella, I think you know how to respond to that."

I think for a minute before typing out my response.

"**That's true. Do all of the naked people you see have big hooters?"**

"I asked him if all the naked people he sees have big hooters."

I hear her cackling in her room.

"Goddamn, Bella. That's fucking brilliant."

I smile to myself, but then I remember that Edward said he didn't even notice the server and what she was wearing and I need some more reassurance. So, I send him another message.

"**And you really didn't notice?"**

While I wait for him to respond, I go ahead and try on one of the nighties I selected.

"**Nudity has no effect on me unless it's your body, Bella. And you know my reactions to that."**

I blush at his words as I realize that I really have nothing at all to worry about. While I'm swooning over my boyfriend's love of my body, I get another text from him.

"**Emmett seems perturbed."**

"Edward says Emmett is perturbed," I tell her.

"He better be fucking perturbed. Hell, he better be absolutely disconcerted and horny at this point."

I love her – my best friend. She is truly amazing and it's so wonderful for me to see this change in her. I've never seen her so into a man in the entire time I've known her. It feels like we finally have something in common.

I turn around and look at myself in the mirror and I am stunned momentarily by how I look in this nightie. Edward would love it. Hell, I love it!

I wonder if…

Could I do that?

No, really. Could I actually do that?

Would he want me to?

Fuck yes, he would.

I text him right away.

"**Hey. I'm in a fitting room. Can I send you a picture message?"**

I hold my breath while I wait for his response.

It comes right away.

**Of course you can send me a picture. But I'm not very good at selecting fashions.**

I giggle because he really has no clue what I'm about to do. I hold my phone out and try to get a full shot of my body in the lingerie. I am dying at the thought of doing this because I would never have imagined that I would do something like this...ever.

Once I am satisfied with the picture, I type out my message and hit send before I can change my mind.

"**I know, Edward. Here's something for you to look at. It's not fashion. It's lingerie."**

I think he'll respond quickly, but it's been about a minute and I haven't heard from him yet.

"You're being awfully quiet over there, Bella," Rosalie says to me. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, umm...nothing. Just trying stuff on."

"You're a lying whore!" she yells. "I could see the flash!"

I hear my phone and tell her to shut the fuck up.

"**Is that for you?"**

I laugh at his response. Well, giggle incessantly is more like it.

"What are you laughing at, Swan?" Rosalie asks. "Are you wearing it wrong or something? Do you need me to help?"

"Bite me, Rose," I tell her. "I know how to dress myself. And mind your own business."

I send him another text.

"**I'm wearing it aren't I?"**

Oh. My. God.

I just sent my boyfriend a picture of me...in freaking lingerie. At least know that he would never share it with anyone else. I think he would sooner die.

"**I'll rephrase – Is that for me?"**

I am blushing like crazy and really fucking turned on at the thought of what is going on right now. When did I become this girl? I wonder if he likes this as much as I hope he does.

"**It's definitely for you. :) I miss you."**

And I do. I miss him so much. Even though, I'm beginning to think that if we continue to do stuff like this while we're apart...the time might pass a lot faster.

"**May I purchase that outfit in all colors? I miss you too. Eating with Emmett doesn't hold the same thrill."**

I smile at the thought of Edward buying me sexy things. Even though he doesn't really have to. I didn't wear a lot of lingerie when we were together last week and he seemed to be completely happy.

I hear Tweet at the door.

"Girl, I have some other things that I think you would like," he says. "These things are smokin' hot!"

I open the door to take what he's brought me.

"Thank you, Tweet."

"No problem. I'll just be right out here if you need anything."

"Okay."

I type out one more message to Edward and begin trying on one of the 'smokin' hot' sets that Tweet just brought me.

"**Well, I should let you eat. The salesman is bringing me some more bras and panties that he thinks I'll like. Have fun, baby."**

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**EPOV**

"Edward. It's good to see you," Emmett exclaims in his too loud voice. I have been meaning to speak to him about his possible hearing loss but have been pleasurably occupied this past week. "I see the apartment is still standing."

"Well of course it is, was there a natural disaster that I missed while Bella was visiting?" I ask. It's possible but unlikely. I was very wrapped up in Bella. In Bella. Such juvenile thoughts. I shake off the image of being inside her and breathe heavily. He murmurs something about how getting laid didn't knock it loose. I wonder why his voice is always either too loud or too soft. Maybe it's a condition I have yet to discover.

"Edward, I'm taking you to dinner at the world's finest wing establishment," he says with pride.

"Wings? Do they offer the rest of the chicken? I'm a breast man," I ask.

Emmett snorts and says, "There will be breasts, my friend. But I'll probably have to point them out to you." He starts laughing and muttering again as we walk to his car. I make out 'look but don't touch' and 'blue balls' and I am perplexed as usual. Emmett has a habit of doing this to me.

As we drive I tell him about my perfect week with Bella. He's genuinely happy for me. I knew he would be. He's my best friend.

We arrive at an establishment that's painted orange and white and is outlandishly decorated with owls. Maybe the owner is into wildlife.

That must be it. It's called Hooters.

I send Bella a text as the hostess seats us. I want to tell her about my day. We exchange messages as Emmett and I discuss his job and where we are moving. Our entrees arrive and I'm alarmed by the amount of wings on Emmett's plate. I have opted for a salad since the choices of 'hot wings' and 'blazing hot wings' seem limited and not suited to my palate.

We continue texting. She seems concerned that I'm at this establishment. I'm not sure why - maybe she read a bad restaurant review. No, it's most likely the miniscule "uniform" that the waitresses are wearing. Surely she must know that I don't even look at other women and that's not an issue.

She's shopping and now she's sending me pictures of her in skimpy lingerie. She tells me that a man is bringing her these outfits and my arousal turns to jealousy.

"**He? A man is looking at you in that outfit?"**

I don't want to think about anyone looking at her so exposed. That's for me. Mine. Ugh, Edward. You're being very possessive. Bella might not appreciate that.

"**Well, he just saw me for a minute when I opened the door. Don't worry. I'm sure he's completely professional. Also, I really appreciate the diversity of this company. BTW, Sage might get to graduate after all. Yay for progressive thinking and a positive step toward ending sexism!"**

Why is she talking about the singing women's libber while men are ogling her? Is she trying to make me upset? No, she wouldn't do that. She doesn't understand the effect she has on men.

"**My chest is hurting. Bella, can you please cover yourself while in the presence of others? While I am sure the salesman is competent, I can only vouch for my own professionalism."**

I hope that he isn't a disgusting pervert. My mind goes to the alarming videos that I've seen advertised online. I've tried to get them removed, but after several strongly-worded letters, I've given up.

"**Edward, can you please ask Candy or whatever your server's name is to cover herself? I can only vouch for my professionalism."**

I glance up at the waitress. Damn. Her name is Candy. Is that a common name? I keep thinking about Bella traipsing around innocently while that pervert is watching my girlfriend. I gulp down my water. Candy quickly refills it.

"**I'm getting abdominal cramps. I don't know if it's psychosomatic or the atrocious food. Bella, how did you know the server's name? Did Emmett text Rosalie?"**

That must be it.

"**No, sweetie. Educated guess. Want me to send you another picture?"**

I'm torn. While I want a picture of her in every outfit, I know that the longer she stays there, the more opportunity Mr. Pervert has to look at her.

"**Of you. Not Rosalie or the very professional salesman."**

My baser side prevails. As does the sarcastic one.

"**Of course me. Do you like this bra?"**

It's another pic. Her breasts are pushed up on display. It's nearly see-through. Good god. Emmett might have to drive me home. All my blood has pooled in my groin. Ok, not all, but it feels like it. I glance at Emmett, hoping he doesn't sense what's happening in my pants. He's looking at his phone, too. I'm relieved. Well, not completely. But I can't do _that _here. I type a compliment, hoping she can see how much I respect her.

"**Yes, but I love the contents of the bra."**

Good job, Edward. You didn't let her know what a mess you are with a giant erection in the middle of this ridiculous wildlife restaurant. Come to think of it, it's not decorated very convincingly. I only see owls.

"**Would you like a picture of the contents?"**

Is she serious? Do I want a picture of her breasts? Um, hell yes. But I don't say it that way. I have manners.

"**YES. Please."**

There. That's the polite way to ask for a topless photo of your girlfriend. I get a response very quickly.

Oh, sweet fuck.

"What?" exclaims Emmett. "Did you just curse?" Crap. I must've said that out loud. "What did Bella send you?"

"**Here you go, baby. You might want to excuse yourself for this. Oh, and I'll bet they look better than Candy's. Mine don't have any scars. And also, my nipples are still sensitive. Well, you remember."**

Candy who? I'm enthralled by the creamy skin and pert -

"Dude! Is Bella sending you nudie shots? That's fucking awesome. I need to meet this chick. She's badass," Emmett exclaims. How does he know these things? He's entirely too perceptive. "Oh, damn. Rosie's sending me pics, too. Fuck." Emmett scrubs his face with his hands. "She's going to kill me, but in a good way."

I try to get my mind off of nude Bella. But the testosterone at this table is at extreme levels. I send her a new text while Emmett pounds his head on the table. I commiserate with you Emmett. I'm dying in a good way, too.

"**Is Candy an acquaintance of yours? You seem to know a lot about her breasts."**

I don't know how she would know her, but she's said a few remarkably accurate statements about our server.

"**Just enough to know her breasts are fake."**

Hmm. I glance at Candy's chest. She grins at me and winks. Oh, oh. I quickly avert my eyes and text Bella.

"**Yeah. I'd have to agree. The workmanship is poor."**

It really is. They seem a bit lopsided, and the right one is probably 5 CCs less than the left. I consider giving her a referral, but I decide against it.

"**Um, I'm not even going to ask how you found that out. And you didn't say anything about my picture!"**

Yes. Your picture is so hot. Would it be disgusting if it were my screen saver? I think of Emmett using my computer and realize that is impossible. I can't tell her that of course. No one else can see her like that.

"**You're amazing, Bella. I love this picture. WAIT. Who took this photo?"**

If it's Mr. Pervert, I may not be able to control myself.

"**I took it! Hey Edward, just so you know…I think Rose is sending Emmett pics too."**

The relief is palpable when I see that she took the photo. My stomach walls feel like they contracted, but they relax when I see her text.

"**Oh. Ok. I was having a mild stomach issue for a moment. Maybe it was the wings. Emmett made me try some. He said it would put hair on my chest. I told him I was quite satisfied with the amount I currently possessed. Are you in agreement with that statement?"**

"**I love your chest…and your hair…and well, your body. Fuck. I'm wet."**

I'm not even speaking to Emmett by this point. I'm just reading text messages from Bella and fantasizing. Emmett isn't paying attention either, so I think I haven't offended him too severely. I hear him order a drink from Candy who is leaning over enough so I CAN see her scars. Bella was right. But I'm smart enough to realize that if I told her she wouldn't be thrilled as to how I found that out.

"**Emmett just ordered a double shot of whiskey. So maybe he did get a photo of something exciting."**

He's actually pulling his hair and moaning. Yes, I'm quite sure she sent him something suggestive.

"**Rose is giggling in the fitting room next to me."**

"**Why is she giggling? Did Emmett text her a joke?"**

I think about the previous text. Is she trying to tell me. . .

"**Wait. Did you spill something, or are you having a physical reaction?"**

I imagine her wet for me in lingerie. I'm going to be pounding my head on the table too. People might start to stare.

"**No…Edward. I'm wet. Like, you make me wet. When can you call me? I need to hear your voice?"**

I want to call her immediately, but I realize Emmett is having a minor breakdown and wouldn't appreciate the explicit conversation that will definitely take place. Plus, Candy is hovering - what is it about me that servers always linger by my table?

"**I'll call you tonight. I don't want to talk in front of Emmett. And I'd prefer you don't share the intimate conversation with the salesman."**

Yeah, fuck Mr. Pervert. He's not going to hear my Bella any longer than her needs to. I hope she's not angry. If she is, I can go into the bathroom to talk. I have an extra pack of anti-bacterial wipes. I always take them when I go out with Emmett. I breathe a sigh of relief when I read the next text.

"**No. This is between you and me. Will you promise to be in bed when you call? I will be."**

Lucky bed. I wonder what she's going to it's the see-through bra, we might need a video feed.

"**I'm sure I will be due to the three hour time difference."**

I really am off in my sleep regimen. Next week I have to start acclimating myself to Pacific Standard Time.

"**Okay. Edward, I love you."**

I really can't hear that enough times. I smile widely. I think I giggle. I hear a strange noise and I look up to see Candy staring at me. Emmett has apparently snapped out of his stupor and is also staring. I self-consciously touch my face to check for something. . .maybe wing sauce? No. I'm clean.

"**I love you, Bella. Be safe."**

I put my phone away and focus on Emmett because I've been quite rude. He's smiling so I haven't been unforgivable.

"Sorry, Emmett. It was . . .you know. . .Bella. She's -"

He cuts me off when he claps his hand on my shoulder. "I know, Edward. I can see it in your eyes. You're still Edward, but just better."

I smile back at Emmett and pat his arm. "You seem really good, too. Frustrated, but good," I laugh.

He smirks and leans in to say, "Just wait, fucker. Getting cut off for three weeks after sexing up your woman for a week straight is going to be a bitch. Just saying. Especially now that you are all in love and shit." He pokes me in the chest and sits back in his chair.

"Oh, I get it now. Sorry. I should have known the signs. Two pretty guys ignoring me all night. You two make a very cute couple," Candy says knowingly as she hands us our bill.

My mouth hangs open and Emmett cracks up.

"Do you think I'm pretty, Edward? Fuck, I need to tell Rosie about this. She's going to die laughing."

"You are quite attractive, Emmett." I honestly mean that. He has striking features and an incredible body.

Why does everyone think I'm gay? I'm including my mother in that statement.

Is Bella the only one who doesn't?

Well, I guess she has proof that I'm not.

Good proof. Hard proof.

**End Notes:**

Please leave us some love and review.

We are sorry for the delay in updating. Unfortunately, RL took precedence last week and we just couldn't post on time. Well, we could have. But it would have just been random texts between the two of us and nothing about Forthwithward and DizzyBella.

Marvar: I would like to thank everyone who wished me a happy birthday on Wednesday. I appreciated every single tweet.

I would also like to thank my soulmate, Miss Cosmo, for the fuckawesome birthday gift. Read the O/S she wrote for me, Need You Tonight. It's set in 1988, and Edward is in a hot tub. 'nuff said. Find it on her profile.

Also vote for LiMB in the Golden Lemon and Glove awards. Someone besides us thinks this stuff is funny and hot. Thanks to whoever nominated us.

Oh, the FGB outtake will be out by the promised due date. Thank you for donating.


	20. Re: Back in the Box

**Chapter 19**

**Re: Back in the Box**

A/N:

Marvar: We know this chapter is a bit late. We appreciate your patience as Cosmo writes like twenty other fics and I'm just being lazy. We are currently working on FGB outtakes and we'll get those out ASAP.

Cosmogirl7481: No, Marvar means I read like twenty other fics. And all of them updated or completed this week.

x-x-x-x-x

From: Emmett McCarty

To: Rosalie Hale

Subject: My commitment

Dear Rosalie,

Hey babe. I thought that email would be a good way to communicate with you, so that I can prove I'm serious about getting to know you. It's impossible to break our pact over the Internet. Well, unless you want to spam me with some naked pics of your hot bod or better yet use the web cam and give me a little show. . . Damn, that'd be hot. I'm all for that, BTW, and I don't think that would violate the spirit of our agreement.

Just sayin'.

Fuck, I'm hard now. Ping me and it's on baby.

Waiting,

Emmett

Sent from my iPhone

x-x-x-x-x

From: Rosalie Hale

To: Emmett McCarty

Subject: It's off

Ping, motherfucker!

First of all, let me just say that just because I sent you some pics of my panties from a fitting room last week, doesn't mean that I'll be sending you any "hot bod" pictures in the future.

Secondly, allow me to ask why it has to be ME sending these pics? Last time I checked, you had some stuff that you could photograph too. So, I'll tell you what...you first.

Pull them down, pull it out and pull on it a little bit to make it grow. And then send ME a picture. You do that and I'll show you a fucking ping!

Lastly, my name is not Bella. And your name is not Edward. I have no interest in e-fucking. I do have interest in _you and me-fucking_, but like I told you before...one month. Can you do it, Emmett? Are you man enough?

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

x-x-x-x-x

From: Emmett McCarty

To: Rosalie Hale

Subject: My dick

Dear Rosie,

Now don't go questioning my manhood. This is all man - you would know. You can barely keep your hands or mouth off me. That's why we're doing this shit. Or not doing it.

Fuck.

Rosie, I would take a pic but you know to make all of 'him' fit in the frame I'd have to shoot it from long distance. Then you wouldn't get all the details. And you know how pretty it is. It's just not fair to my cock.

And trust me, I don't need to pull on it to make it stand up. I can just scroll down to those panty pics. . . or think about you on the counter. . . or the sink . . . Fuck.

The only good thing about this arrangement is that I don't have to feel guilty about moaning another girl's name when Rosy palm makes me shoot my load later.

Damn, baby. You're killing me here. I haven't been this backed up since I was 16.

Please consider pinging me. I'll be the one with the blue balls and a busy right hand. Trust me though, this Rosy's got nothing on you.

Yours – if you want me,

Emmett

Sent from my iPhone

x-x-x-x-x

From: Rosalie Hale

To: Emmett McCarty

Subject: Your dick. You're a dick

It seems to me that you might be a little too impressed with your own cock. I mean, It was nice and all, but I don't know if I'd write it a sonnet. Maybe a dirty limerick or a random haiku.

For example:

There once was a boy named Em.

His dick was quite a gem.

I gave him some.

It made him come.

But it really needs a trim.

You're a smooth-talking, romantic motherfucker. Really. I don't know how I'll be able to keep my hands off you for an entire month when you sweet talk me with amorous words about be being spread out on the counter or the sink. Truly, Keats has nothing on you, baby. What woman wants "She Walks in Beauty," when she can have delusional ramblings about the size of her suitor's dick.

Oh, and the reminder of how I couldn't keep my mouth off of it.

Classy, babe.

Really classy.

I also really appreciated the play-by-play of your masturbatory pursuits. And I especially loved that my competition seems to be your sad and lonely little hand. I hope you're using lube, baby. I'd hate for your dick to catch fire from all the friction.

The amazing thing is – even after all of this – I definitely still want you. What can I say? A girl wants what she wants. After all, I go to Berkeley and I'm an ardent supporter of the woman's right to choose.

And I'm thinking that maybe – just maybe, baby – I want to choose you.

I was serious about the e-fucking, Emmett. I'm not doing it. But I would be up for a conversation on the phone. One where you whisper _actual_ sweet things in my ear. It might just make me want to whisper something dirty…or hot.

You like it hot and dirty, don't you?

Consider calling…

I'll be the one with the breathy voice and the blue vibrator.

Yours – in a month.

Rosalie

PS

Please, never reference yourself as "backed up" again. You are not a toilet. Toilets are not sexy, but you – you are definitely sexy.

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

x-x-x-x-x

**EPOV**

"Dude, tell me you weren't watching this shit. I'll have to pull your man card," Emmett exclaims as he wraps my DVDs in bubble wrap. "_Bridget Jones_? _Pride and Prejudice?_" He mutters 'chick flicks' under his breath and shakes his head.

I bristle at his comments. "The actresses are quite attractive," I say and Emmett snorts while shaking his head. "Ok. Bella likes those movies. We watched _Pride and Prejudice_ together while we talked on the phone," I admit.

Emmett stops wrapping and looks at me, his eyes blinking as he breaks into a smile. "Wow. You really love her." He's not asking. Apparently watching 'chick flicks" to remind yourself of your girlfriend equates to love. I can't deny facts.

"I do," I say, simply. He punches me in the arm in what I assume is a form of camaraderie and not an attempt at bodily harm. I'm glad I lift weights or that would've hurt.

"Look at you all fucking Darcy and shit, going to ride up to her house on a white steed," he laughs as he continues to wrap my DVD's. I cock one eyebrow up when he mentions Darcy. "What? Keira Knightley is hot," he insists.

"Aristotle is mostly grey with white spots. And Bella's apartment isn't zoned for riding," I offer. Emmett again stops wrapping and stares at me for a second then tosses a bundle in a box. He's not meant for manual labor. He can't even wrap and talk without pausing. "Emmett, can you please put those in the other box? The list is taped to the side and I have some extra copies of the inventory if you need them. I've already catalogued my belongings for ease of unpacking and insurance purposes." I show him my lists. He laughs again, and I really don't know what's funny. He must be thinking of jokes Rosalie told him or something. "I can do that for your belongings too, if you'd like," I offer. "It would be easy. I already have a template set up on my computer."

"Yeah, maybe next week when it's actually time to move. I kinda need my shit to be out so I can use it. Rose isn't here to appreciate me walking around naked. What are you going to do for the next two weeks? Wait, never mind. I'm still trying to deal with the alphabetized and cross-referenced spreadsheets."

I'm slightly irked by his dismissal of my efforts. Honestly, what was I supposed to do? Toss all my personal effects haphazardly into a cardboard box? I don't even bother to tell him about my separate transition plan. He wouldn't appreciate it.

I see the large stack of alphabetized CDs still sitting in the rack. "Are you going to wrap or not?" I ask him. We are already behind my schedule thanks to his lackluster packing abilities. He pauses, then starts making a strange sound and sings (that's the closest descriptor), "..._sippin' on gin and juice, laid back, with my mind on my money and my money on my mind..._" He laughs uncontrollably when he sees my face that is obviously contorted in confusion. "That shit's even funnier when you don't know what the fuck I'm talking about."

He continues laughing as he walks to the kitchen, grabs two beers from the refrigerator, and tosses me one. Beer? Didn't he just say something about gin? I know for a fact I have juice.

I shake off the confusion because this is Emmett, and he often makes me feel this way. If I didn't know about his high IQ, I'd wonder about his mental abilities.

I go wash my hands because they are dusty and frankly it's making me shudder to think at the amount of dust mites floating around. The last thing I need is to develop asthma or eczema. When I come back he's reading the folder. The one with Bella's parents' personal information.

"Emmett, that's marked confidential. Why are you reading it?" I ask, clearly upset.

"Sorry, Edward. I thought it was the labeled diagram for your underwear drawer, or better yet, some porn. But it's just some boring family tree crap in your cyber-stalker folder. Are you doing some sort of genealogy study on Bella's family?" he snorts. _Hey, that's not a bad idea. I can check genetic markers to make some predictions for our offspring._ But I don't say that out loud. Emmett would make some sort of comment.

"Did you really need to do a credit check? Are you going to co-sign for a loan for Bella's dad?" he asks as he begins packing again. I detect a hint of sarcasm so I don't answer him. "I wouldn't publicize that you have that information," he says. I wonder why. I only want to ensure that Bella's family is financially secure. I lover her and want her family to be able to take care of her until she allows me to take over that role.

Emmett explains, "You might end up with a gun to your head or worse yet, a sexbargo. Do you know how horrible that is? And I'm not even in the same state as her." I hear him mutter something like 'fucking financial analysis' and 'identity theft' but I ignore him. From his reaction, I'm assuming I shouldn't mention to Bella's father that he should refinance or about diversifying his stock portfolio when I meet him. Even though Mr. Swan could see a gain in net worth of 8.9 percent, I decide to keep it to myself. I don't want to upset my possible future father-in-law (in my mind that's a given, but I don't want to appear cocky or arrogant).

"You agreed to the sexbargo, Emmett," I say.

"Edward, could you keep your hands and every other part off of Bella for one month?" he queries.

Yeah, I can see how that would be torture. Now that I have Bella, I really don't want a sexbargo.

**BPOV**

"We are so glad you're coming for a visit, sunshine," my mother says and I can practically feel her vibrating through the phone. "I hope you don't mind, but we've turned your old room into my studio. Don't worry, though. Your bed is still in there."

I'm on the phone with my mother and I'm going to tell her about Edward and that I'll be bringing him home with me next week.

"You have a studio now?" I ask. "What about the garage?"

"Well, the kiln is still out there, but it's just too hot to do anything else. I didn't think you would mind since you are staying in California year-round now."

"I don't mind…umm…but Mom, I have some news for you."

I smile to myself as I think about Edward. I've never brought a boy home before. Well, not since high school. And Edward's not a boy. He's a man. _My man_. Wait – did I just refer to Edward as _my man_? Even in my mind, that's a little too much for me. Who am I? Tammy Wynette?

"Well, now," she says. "This sounds serious. Are you pregnant? No, wait…you can't be pregnant. You've been on the pill since you were sixteen. Unless you stopped taking it. You didn't stop taking it, did you? _Did you_?"

"_Mom_! I'm not pregnant!"

Jesus, now I'm mortified. I've just had to tell my mother that I'm not pregnant. And even though it's not really possible, the image of a baby Edward is in my mind. He'd be all cute and tiny with his father's hair and maybe my brown eyes. Though, I'd rather him have green eyes. Edward's eyes are so pretty. I could just get lost in them…

"Did you hear me, dear?"

Crap.

I didn't.

And really? One minute, I'm 'standing by my man' and the next minute I'm having his baby? Seriously. I need to stop. I'm turning into a bad country song. And I fucking hate country music.

"Oh..umm…no, I'm sorry. I didn't," I tell her. "What umm…what did you say?"

"I said that was a relief," she tells me before continuing. "You know, your father thinks you're waiting until you get married to have sex. Even though I told him that the purity ring he bought you was completely and utterly ridiculous. But no! He just had to do it. All those men in his _Secret Keepers_ group told him that their daughters were wearing them. Stupid religious Republicans. Did you know that it was the week after he gave you that ring that I took you to the doctor to have you put on the pill? I knew the moment you put it on that you would have sex within a month. And you almost did. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Sexual exploration is completely normal for teenagers. Even if the teenager was Seth Clearwater."

Damn, she rambles a lot. I hope I'm never like that.

"Not that I haven't enjoyed this embarrassing trip down memory lane and the fact that you thought I was knocked-up, but I really do have something to tell you," I tell her, laughing and cringing at the memory of me and Seth in the back of my dad's cruiser when my mother found us making out and full-on dry humping. "I've met someone and well, we're…well, we're together now. And I want to bring him home to meet you guys. Do you think that would be okay?"

"Not Secret Keepers!" she randomly exclaims. "Promise Keepers!"

"What?" I ask, confused and a little irritated that I seem to be playing 'Who's on First' with my mother. "What are you talking about?"

"Promise Keepers," she tells me. "That was the name of that men's group that he went to. It was supposed to be religious and male-bonding or something, but it always sounded like some circle-jerk in a church. I'm telling you, Bella. It was weird. I'm glad he doesn't go anymore. Now, if I could just convince him that Bill O'Reilly is a jackass, we would be all set."

"All set for what?" I ask without thinking. "No, wait! I'm trying to tell you about Edward. Can you please focus?"

"What are you talking about, Bella? I'm focused," she says. "Edward. This is the boy you've met? And he's important?"

I don't know what it was, but there was something about hearing my mother call Edward important that warms me from the inside. Not that I didn't know that he was important before, it's just that I need her to know that he is. Not just special…but everything. I'm completely in love with him and I need the other two most important people in my life to understand that.

"So important, Mom. I'm…well…well, I'm in love with him," I tell her softly. "And he's not a boy, Mom. He's a man…a doctor…a surgeon."

"Well, I wouldn't care if he were a garbage man, Bella. As long as you were happy," she tells me. "And you want to bring him home? To meet your father?"

"Uh…yeah," I tell her. "I mean, I think that Dad will really like him."

"Why? Does he fish? Is he a member of the NRA?" she asks, laughing. "Which reminds me, sweetie. "You _do_ realize that if you guys are staying here, you won't be able to sleep together. I'm assuming you _are _sleeping together."

"Mom! I'm not talking to you about my sex life!"

"See? You just said you have a sex life," she tells me. "Really, Bella. It's not like I care. I mean honestly, I would be a little concerned if you didn't have a sex life at this point. You just can't have one here. Your father's head would explode and he has a gun! Well, actually he has several, but that's not the point."

It dawns on me that I haven't really considered this. We can't _not_ stay with my parents because they would be hurt and if we stay, Edward won't be able to sleep with me.

Fuck my life.

"Edward can sleep on the sofa bed in the family room," she says chuckling. "You father will be pleased with that arrangement."

"Why would that please him?"

"Because, honey…that's where the gun racks are."

I was wrong.

Fuck Edward's life.

x-x-x-x-x

From: Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Missing you

Dear Bella,

Hello. Has it only been a week? It feels longer though I know exactly how long it's been. It must be the misery that I experience without you. I hope you know that I think about you all the time. I know I've said that before, but it's somehow seems more now that we've been together (I don't mean that sexually, although that's true – I was referring to our physical proximity last week).

I just want to be with you like that (this time I mean sexually, also).

Constantly (again I mean both ways).

I know that's immature and unrealistic. I mean, how could we work and attend classes? I've crunched some numbers and all scenarios were unsuccessful. So, the status quo remains – I'm here and you are there. I'm miserable, and you are. . . ? Well, I don't wish for you to be melancholy, but I'd hope you'd miss me a little.

Do you?

Instead of wallowing in depression, I'm trying to make these next weeks productive. I have planned out my move and I'm assisting my parents as well. Emmett is resistant - he says he'll "throw his shit in a box" when it's time to go. My furniture is ordered - thank you by the way for helping me pick out everything. I want you to feel like it's your house, too. I would like to think that you will spend lots of time there with me. Or without me. I just really want you. There.

Bella, I've been studying the dossier you sent me about your parents. Well, I know it's not a comprehensive report, but I have supplemented it a bit with my own research. I'm feeling more confident about meeting them now that I have their basic biographical and background knowledge memorized.

Thank you again, by the way. I'm glad you appreciate my need for knowledge, unlike Emmett who said I was weird. He mumbled something about "cyber-stalking" and left when I told him what I was reading. He's my best friend, but even he doesn't understand me like you do. You like me just the way I am. No one ever made me feel that way before. I'm so grateful for that. And grateful for you. I don't feel like the awkward geek anymore. I feel loved.

Do you have any idea how much I love you?

If not, I'm doing a terrible job as your boyfriend (but please don't take that as a suggestion to break up with me).

Loving you more than anything and anyone,

Your Edward

P.S. Did you recognize the quote from Bridget Jones's Diary? I watched it because you said you liked it. The main character was rather promiscuous, but charming.

x-x-x-x-x

From: Bella Swan

To: Edward Masen

Re: Come and get it

Dear Edward,

I miss you so much and I swear to god, I completely understand how you're feeling. This has been the longest week of my life. There are only two things keeping me somewhat sane right now. One is the fact that Rose seems to be having as difficult a time as me. Don't tell Emmett, but I walked in on her in the kitchen yesterday morning and she was just standing there...staring the counter where the blender used to be. When she saw me, she blushed. And let me tell you, Rose never blushes.

The other thing is the time I spend with you at night on the phone before you go to sleep. I especially loved the other night after the fitting room. By the way, I'm really sorry that we got..umm...interrupted. I had no idea that Alice and Jasper would show up. If if makes you feel better, I 'finished' later on that night after they left. Do you want to know what I was thinking of? I'm going to assume the answer is yes and tell you. I thought about you...your mouth...the way it felt on me. Fuck. Now I'm wet.

Speaking of Alice and Jasper, did you know that for their honeymoon, they drove a VW van down to Mexico and spent a week at an Ashram doing Bikram yoga and fasting? And well, Jasper said that they also spent a great deal of time in their cabin "naked and communing with each other, while learning to experience the spirits through the beauty of their sexuality." He also said that I looked stressed and offered to give me a therapeutic massage with clary-sage oil. I turned it down, because well, that seemed kind of weird and honestly, I thought your head might explode. But I was really impressed that he is a licensed massage therapist. He said that was what he did in order to pay his way through college. Anyway, I think you should call Alice. She looks happier than I've ever seen her.

Edward, I spoke to my mom and told her that you would be joining me when I come to Phoenix in two weeks. She and my dad are really looking forward to meeting you. Speaking of my dad, did you Google him or something? I was just wondering about the extra research. Also, we will only have one night together before we leave for Arizona. I booked our flight this morning. And speaking of that, I need to tell you something. My dad - unlike your parents - is very conservative Edward. I know I told you that already. Anyway, we won't be able to sleep together while we are spending the week with my family. I hope that's okay.

I know you miss me and I miss you just as much. And while I don't know exactly how much you love me, I know it's a lot...so much, really. And Edward, I want you to know...I love you just the same.

More.

I think I love you more.

You make my heart full and my face hurts from how much you make me smile. So even though I'm sad and miss you more each day, I've never been happier about anything than the fact that I'm your girlfriend.

My heart belongs to you. Please come and get it.

Always,

Bella

PS: It's funny that you watched Bridget Jones. I watched the Discovery Channel because it made me think of you. And let me tell you, those mountain lions are pretty promiscuous too.

**End Notes: **

Marvar: You need to read Cosmo's new story: What Speaks in Darkness. It is a supernatural romance and you know there will be sexin'.

Cosmogirl7481: Thanks, babes. But everyone should know that if you weren't my beta, my new story would be a string of random words with like a million too many commas and unsubtle foreshadowing of Edward's cock.

Reviews = Love

Follow us on Twitter: marvar29 and cosmogirl7481


	21. Re: Interrogation and Sexual Frustration

**A/N**

cosmogirl7481: So, what does it feel like to be a wordy bitch?

Marvar: I don't know; tell us, please.

cosmogirl7481: ::crickets::

Marvar: Ok, so she ran out of words. All the good ones are in the chapter. Don't worry, she just needs some Rob porn and a drink and she'll be as good as new next week.

So, just read:

**Chapter 20**

**Re: Interrogation and Sexual Frustration**

**BPOV**

I walk into the kitchen and Rose is already eating our secret stash of coffee ice cream. Part of me wants to hug her, but part of me wants to tell her to stop hogging all the comfort food.

"I guess Emmett called you too," I say, motioning to the container in her hand.

"What?" she says defensively. "I don't give a fuck if he's going to be delayed. I was more concerned about you. You're the one with the possibility of sex."

"Oh," I tell her. "I see. Then why do you have ice cream on your chin?"

"Well fuck, Bella," she says as she shoves the pint at me. "I was just making sure that it was okay."

"It's alright for you to be upset too, you know," I tell her because it is okay and God knows I'm upset.

"I'm not upset that they're going to be late," she says, walking out of the kitchen. "I'm fucking pissed that Emmett thinks it's funny. He's the man with all the jokes…motherfucker."

I hear her mumble something about Jimmy Fallon, blue balls, and no mercy.

"He made a joke?" I ask, still confused.

"No, he made several jokes in a fucking text message and he also sent me a picture."

I am more confused as ever as I follow her into the living room.

"What do you mean?"

She pulls out her phone and finds the text in question.

"Well, he told me and I quote, 'Baby, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to wait a few more hours before you can torture me'," she says as she scrolls further down. "And then he said, 'I know you're dying to get your hands on my goods, but it's going to be a while. Oh that's right. You can't touch this. Never mind'."

I don't know Emmett all that well, but he's best friends with Edward and he's a graduate of Dartmouth. Really, how can someone so smart be so stupid? She's going to kill him. And not in the "softly" way. She might literally, physically hurt him. I am pulled from my thoughts with her mumbling again. Something about MC Hammer. Sometimes I don't understand her.

"What…" I start, almost afraid to ask. "You said he sent you a picture?"

"Oh, yeah," she says. "A picture of his crotch – you know, that I won't be touching anyway. Did you want to see?"

"Ummm…no," I tell her decidedly. "I don't want to see Emmett's crotch, Rose."

"Good. Me fucking either," she says. "Are you going to eat that?"

I look at her and decide that she needs this much more than me, so I hand her the ice cream and she begins eating immediately.

"What did Edward tell you?" she asks, her mouth full.

"Well," I tell her, flopping down on the couch. "Just that the flight has been delayed several hours and that…" I giggle as I think about it, which makes me blush. "Well, that he composed a strongly-worded email to the airline protesting their incompetence."

She stares at me for a long while.

"And you're really sure that he makes you hot?" she asks. "Like, strongly-worded letters make you hot?"

I can't help but smile as I think about him and all the ways I love him. And how I love all the little things about him that other people probably find annoying.

"Yeah," I tell her, blushing. "Strongly-worded letters make me hot."

"I call bullshit, Bella," she says. "Strongly-worded letters and big dick make you hot."

"Shut the fuck up, Rose," I say, throwing a pillow at her. "I love everything about him."

"I know you do, but you have to admit…" she says grinning, "cock – more importantly, big cock – makes all the other stuff more lovable."

"I'm not discussing Edward's cock with you," I tell her. "And I would love him no matter what."

"Shut the fuck up, Bella!"

x-x-x-x-x

Rose and I walk into the airport and find Alice and Jasper there waiting for us. I immediately walk over to Alice and give her a hug. Rose is staring at Jasper like he's an idiot and rolling her eyes. I mouth, "Be nice," to her and she huffs and goes to take a seat.

"I'm so glad you guys came," I tell Alice. "Since Edward and I will be leaving, pretty much as soon as he gets here, I won't get to see you until we get back."

"Oh, definitely," she agrees. "Besides, we wanted to be here when Mom and Dad arrive. They are going to stay with us tonight since the hotel won't let them check in until the morning."

"Bella," Jasper interjects, looking at me strangely. "There is no positive energy coming from you right now and your aura is pink, mingled with shades of brown."

"Oh, unknowable universe," Rose says as she snorts behind me. "Her aura is pink. Like, hmmm…I don't know….maybe her pussy, which has seen no action for almost a month now." She rolls her eyes before continuing. "And are you sure that the brown is not just a reflection of your aura? Because you are full of…"

"Rose," I interject.

"What?" she snaps, looking at me like a petulant child. "I mean, seriously! Does he have a crystal ball under his burka?"

I'm relieved that Alice is giggling at her outburst and Jasper – well, Jasper doesn't seem like he's the kind of guy that lets anything upset him. It's probably from all the herbal tea and communing with spirits. Fuck, my mom would love him.

"Well, Rose," Jasper says. "Your aura is red with no breaks in the color at all."

"Why?" she retorts. "Because I'm hot?"

"No…in the aura, red communicates and exhibits materialism, materialistic ambition, a focus on sensual pleasures and a quick temper."

Rose starts to laugh as she pulls a compact and lipstick out of her purse.

"So, what you're telling me is that I want nice things, I want to be successful, I'm good in bed and I don't take shit from anyone," she says proudly. "Thanks, Gandhi. That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me."

I want to care about this ridiculous conversation, but I can't. I can only focus on the fact that in less than an hour, Edward will be here. And even though we won't have time to spend the night together – just being close to him will be enough. Besides, I'll get to kiss him. Kissing is just as good as sex. Yeah…no it's not. Kissing is wonderful, but noting is better than having sex with Edward. I begin to think about the last time we made love when Jasper interrupts me.

"Really, Bella," Jasper says calmly. "I can cleanse your aura if you'd like. Maybe if you relaxed a little, you could be a lovely shade of orange by the time that Edward arrives."

Seriously. Is he for real? He wants to cleanse my aura when I could be thinking of the way that Edward felt inside me...the way he held me all night with his perfect body pressed up against every inch of mine…

Fuck.

He's still talking.

"Wait…what?" I ask.

"I was saying that in the aura, orange communicates and exhibits thoughtfulness and creativity."

"Ummm…Edward doesn't really like orange," I tell him, hoping that he will stop and let me go back to my happy place where Edward is naked.

"It's true," Alice agrees and I am thankful for her distraction. "Edward was scared by a tiger at the San Diego Zoo when he was five. He doesn't even eat anything orange. Well, except for orange juice. But that's only because he says that the nutritional value far outweighs the trauma he suffered as a child."

At her words, I am reminded of the way Edward looked as he drank the orange juice on my first morning with him after I sucked his…

"Bella," Jasper interrupts me again and I have to fight the urge not to yell at him or kick him in his crystal balls. "I was saying that it's unfortunate that Edward is scared of tigers because tigers symbolize all things connected with power, beauty or sexuality."

"Oh, well, that's true," I say, and Alice squeals beside me. "What?" I ask her.

"I just love how happy you guys are …and I love that you think he's powerful, beautiful and sexual."

"Well he is," I say and I go back to my previous thoughts of all things naked-Edward.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Forty-five minutes later, I receive a text from Edward that the plane has landed and that they are just waiting to deplane. He also tells me he loves me because, yeah…he always does that now. It's mostly wonderful. Being in love with him – having him in my life – well, it's just the most amazing thing I could have ever hoped to ask for. And I'm sitting here thinking about it…waiting with these people that I love (well, I kind of love Jasper in an 'I'm-really-glad-he's-married-to-Alice-and-not-me' kind of way), just not as much as I love him.

And that's when I decide.

"I'm going to the terminal," I tell them.

I don't have to wait here. I have a ticket to fly to Phoenix. I can go to the terminal.

"What?" Alice asks.

I look at Rose because I know that she is waiting for Emmett just as much as I am waiting for Edward…even if she'll never admit it. But I can't handle the thought of missing any more time with him than I already have. I've been away from him for three weeks and soon he'll be starting his residency and our time together will be limited. I just want every single second that I have to be with him.

"I have to go," I tell her, my voice quivering with the culmination of the last three weeks of missing him and the anxiousness that I feel from the thought of him being so close. I need to see him…to touch him…to kiss him and tell him that I love him when he can see that my expression matches my words. "I have to. I'm sorry."

Rose looks at me and smiles and I realize just how much she understands me.

"Go," she says. "We'll wait here."

I stand up and hug her tightly.

"I wish you could come with me."

"Don't worry," she says. "It's not like I'm in a huge hurry to not be able to fuck Emmett. What's another fifteen minutes?"

"Fifteen minutes seems like forever," I tell her.

"Get the fuck out of here Meg," she tells me. "You're going to miss your Nora Ephron moment. And even I will admit that Edward is hotter than Tom Hanks."

"Thank you," I yell.

And then I'm running.

Security seems to take forever, when really, it's only a couple minutes. I reach Terminal A-2 in no time flat because I run and also because of those really cool sliding flat-escalator things. I wonder what they're really called as I'm on them, but then I realize, I don't give a fuck. By the time I get there, I'm completely winded. I might do yoga, but Jesus, there's a big difference between posing, stretching and breathing on a mat, and running like you're being chased by a dog.

Dogs are really scary.

I stand there trying to catch my breath and clutching my side, because now I have a side stitch like I've run a marathon. I wish I had a bottle of water or a person standing on the sidelines to hand me a paper cup or squirt Gatorade in my mouth, but I don't. By the time I am almost breathing normally, I see Carlisle and Esme step into the terminal.

"Bella, dear," Esme says as she reaches out to hug me.

I am about to hug her back when I see him behind his parents – all jet-lagged and scowling and beautiful. I forget his mother entirely the moment he looks up and sees my face. And I swear to god, in that moment, I could push her over if that was what it would take to be close to him.

Fuck.

I'm a selfish bitch.

And the really bad thing is that I don't care.

Fortunately, it doesn't have to come to violence because she sees my face and politely steps to the side. And thank god, Edward runs to me. Because I'm sure my heart would explode if I had to run again.

He reaches me and he stops – for just seconds – he looks at me, my body, my face. He finally lands on my eyes and then his arms are around my waist, my arms wrap around his neck and he is here. He is here and he is holding me…and then he is kissing me.

His lips are so soft and his breath is so sweet as his tongue presses and swirls against mine. And this – right here – this is perfect. This is where I am supposed to be. And I know right now, as his whispers he loves me, that nothing else matters. I am so in love with him and I never want to be away from him again. It was in an airport that I realized I loved him. And now…here…in a different airport in a different city, I realize that he is my future.

"Bella," he murmurs into my hair. "You have no idea."

"I do, Edward…I really, really do."

x-x-x-x-x

**EPOV**

My palms are perspiring. Based upon my Google map, I knew we would be there soon. While I know that I've prepared to meet Bella's parents, it doesn't really make me feel any more confident. I have committed all of their pertinent facts to memory, but my dossier is limited. Also, their reaction to me was a variable that I couldn't quantify. I have some projections, but I have no baseline so my predictions are skewed.

I wipe my disgusting hands on my handkerchief. I curse myself for packing my anti-bacterial wipes in my bag that currently resides in the trunk of the car. Bella giggles as she pulls out some anti-bacterial gel from her purse and hands it to me. I look at her in amazement. I'm even more in love with her at this moment.

"You know that more than your palms are going to sweat because this is Phoenix, right? It's like 95 degrees year round," she laughs. "And while I love you in a tie, it's not the best clothing option for my hometown."

"Of course I'm aware of the temperature, Bella. You know I did research. I'm merely trying to impress your parents. My Nana Cullen says you always wear a shirt and tie when you are serious about making a good impression," I reply.

Bella laughs again, "My mom would love you if you showed up in a Dead t-shirt, and my father, well, maybe you can talk about the NRA or Fox News."

I briefly ponder why Mrs. Swan has a fetish for zombies but I'm interrupted by my love.

"We're here, Edward," Bella says as we pull up to a large, Spanish-style home. It is nicer in person than it appears on the Internet. I gather our bags as Bella warns, "Remember, you love me no matter what." She gives me a quick kiss and straightens my tie before we get to the door. I kiss her hand and hold it to my heart.

"Bella, I'm nervous about how they'll feel about me. They must be wonderful. After all, they provided the DNA for you." She looks at me, the look that makes my heart swell (not literally - I would be alarmed).

Bella says, "They're going to love you, Edward. How could they not?"

I gulp, compulsively, as she rings the bell. I may develop a nervous tic while standing here. If they don't approve of me, would I lose her? I stand straighter, prepared for the worst as I hear footsteps. The door opens and a lovely woman is standing there. She resembles Bella, but is slightly older with blue eyes. She's wearing some kind of unfortunate looking skirt. It's tie-dyed in an array of hideous colors. Her hair is a lighter shade of brown than Bella's, but this is definitely her mother. I'm grateful that Bella doesn't share her mother's sense of style. I briefly think about contagious foot diseases when I see her bare feet. She breaks into a wide grin at the sight of us, and greets Bella while pulling her into a hug.

"You must be Edward. I'm Bella's mom," she says as she hugs me tightly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Swan," I say, trying not to show my nerves.

"Call me Renee, Edward. We're practically family." She grabs Bella and says, "Come on, let's go see your father." We leave our luggage in the foyer and Mrs. Swan continues talking as we walk through the house, pointing out various rooms. I observe my surroundings, noting all of the portraits are of family, except for a framed poster of Art Garfunkel and a signed photo of Charlton Heston holding a rifle. Hmm, that can't be from The Ten Commandments.

I want to spend time looking at Bella's childhood photos, but I have to meet Mr. Swan. In the final room of our tour, sitting at small table, is a rather intimidating looking man. It's not because he's large. I think my reaction has to do with the array of weapons displayed on the table. I guess we have interrupted his gun cleaning ritual.

"Charles, didn't I tell you not to pull that stunt? Put that stuff away," Renee demands. Charlie scowls briefly but it turns into a grin when he sees Bella. He rises and walks to us.

"Daddy!" she exclaims and hugs him. She turns to me to make our introduction. "Dad, this is my boyfriend, Edward Masen. Edward, this is my father, Charlie Swan." Her eyes are bright as she says this. I know she's excited.

"I'm honored to be in your home, sir," I say as I shake his hand.

"It's good to meet you, Edgar." he says. His facial expression doesn't match his words. He looks me over like I'm a suspect in a crime. I think I'm being accused of stealing his daughter.

"Dad, it's Edward," Bella scolds.

"Yeah, ok. Edward."

"Whatever you want to call me is fine, sir," I offer. Bella nudges him in the side and gives him a look. He sighs and puts down the rifle he was dismantling.

"You don't have to call me sir," he says, begrudgingly. Bella beams at him. "Mr. Swan will be a perfectly acceptable alternative, Edwin," he says. Bella groans and rolls her eyes.

"Charlie, be nice. Bella's never brought home a boy before. Besides, we have lots of time to talk during dinner. I made some new recipes in your honor, Edward," Renee says. She grabs my arm to lead me to the dining room and I swear I hear Bella and Mr. Swan groan behind me. "That's a lovely shirt and tie, Edward, but it's a little warm for our weather. Did you bring any other clothes? Bella should have told you about the weather. I think we need to take you shopping and get you some summer clothes, maybe a pair of Birkenstocks." I force a smile (it's really more of a grimace), as I swallow my horror, because I have manners and sit down next to Bella at the dinner table. Renee's rambling has put a smile on both Bella's and Mr. Swan's faces. Humph. I didn't find it amusing.

Renee serves dinner, well, it is something resembling food, and Bella begins the conversation by asking about Mr. Swan's job. I hang on to every word, hoping that I can intelligently add to the conversation. I fear he doesn't like me, and I'm worried about how it will affect Bella. He hasn't said anything directly, but his facial expressions lead me to believe I'm not his favorite person.

"So, Edgar, how old are you?" Mr. Swan asks. His tone is not conversational. I hear Bella mutter, "Here we go."

"Twenty-four," I answer.

"Profession?"

"Surgical resident."

"Married?"

"No!" Bella shouts. "Dad, really?"

"I didn't hear him answer, Bells," he asserts.

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms in front of her chest. She pouts and it's adorable. I want to kiss the lip that is jutting out. I put it out of my mind, because thinking about kissing Bella will lead to an erection and then Mr. Swan will probably maim me with a weapon. I make a mental note to research the emergency response time and nearby hospitals later when I'm alone.

He looks at me, waiting for a response. "No, sir."

He asks me about my parents, education, and friends. I respond truthfully. Renee brings me a glass of water. I wonder if I'm being videotaped behind a two-way mirror.

"Hobbies?"

I pause, realizing that phone and Internet sex with his daughter takes up most of my free time. But I can't say that because that wouldn't be proper.

"Golf, and soccer." He snorts when I say soccer.

"Mr. Swan, I have my resume and a brief bio I've prepared on my flash drive if you'd like to download it. It includes all recent test scores and a copy of my college transcript. I also have my results from my most recent physical," I offer. Bella protests and I smile at her in reassurance. Her face softens and she gives me my look. I know that I can handle this interrogation as long as I get to be with her when it's over.

"I've never been arrested, or received any tickets," I offer.

"Yeah, I know," he mumbles.

"Dad, did you run a background check on him?" Bella shouts. She's by my side and holding my hand. "I can't believe that you did that." She's nearly in tears and I hold her, rubbing her back to comfort her.

"It's fine, Bella. I have nothing to hide," I murmur.

"Look, this is my little girl. I want her to be safe and I can't just have any idiot off the street take advantage of her," Mr. Swan argues.

"Truly, I understand. I'm very protective of her, also. She's the most precious thing in my life." Bella snuggles up against me, hugging me tightly. I kiss her forehead - surely that will be acceptable?

"Daddy, I love him and he loves me. I trust him," she admits.

"Yeah, well, I know what it's like to be in "in love." But while you're in this house I don't want any physical demonstrations of "your love," got it?" he demands. "You stay in the den and keep your hands off my daughter and my guns. Bella's waiting until marriage, anyway," he says and I try not to choke on my water.

"Yes, sir," I promise. I wasn't planning on making love to Bella in her parents' house, but now I've made it official.

"Damn," Bella whispers under her breath.

I guess I'm on a sexbargo, too.

"Edmund, I'll take that flash drive, now."

x-x-x-x-x

**BPOV**

**Sunday Night**

I walk into the den and Mom is finishing making the sofa bed for Edward.

"I could have done that," I tell her.

"Don't worry, sunshine," she says as she kisses my cheek. "Besides, your father doesn't want you anywhere near this bed."

She picks up the last pillow and I reach for it.

"I can fluff that."

"Okay," she agrees. "But I'm sure your Dad would be even more upset about you fluffing anything for Edward."

She giggles and I don't understand what's so funny.

As we are saying our goodnights, Edward walks into the room. He is dressed in light blue cotton pajamas with a navy robe that is tied tightly in the front. He looks like Ward Cleaver. You know, if Ward Cleaver had been insanely hot with sex hair that begged you to run your fingers through it. He wasn't. There was no one hot on Nick at Nite.

"Hi," I whisper as his eyes meet mine.

"Hi," he murmurs back.

His face flushes and I wonder if it's from all the layers he's wearing. My dad and mom feel really strongly about conserving power – for very different reasons, of course. Dad does it to be fiscally responsible. Mom does it because she wants to save the planet. Anyway, they keep the thermostat set at seventy-nine degrees.

"Good night, kids," Mom says before turning to leave. She reached the door before turning around and adding, "Behave yourselves."

I can hear her chuckling as she walks through the house.

Edward makes no attempt to approach me and I wonder if he's okay. I decide to go over to him instead. My parents are in bed and maybe I can convince him to make out with me a little…maybe even more.

When I am right in front of him, I reach up to stroke his jaw, but before I can, he takes my hand and kisses me softly on the knuckles.

"It's too warm for all those layers. And my parents have gone to bed for the night," I say as suggestively as possible. "Do you know what that means?"

"Yes, it means that we should do the same."

Is he kidding?

"I was thinking that maybe…while we had some privacy…we could, you know…make up for lost time?" I say. My voice is breathy and it's only a little bit on purpose. "I missed you, Edward…so much."

"I missed you, too. Every part of you. But we're going to have to wait. I promise it will be worth it."

"Can I at least have a good night kiss?" I ask, thinking that his demeanor might change once he's kissing me and do that little tongue thing he likes so much.

He looks at me like he's trying to decide.

"Of course."

Fuck, yes!

He leans down as I lick my lips. And just when I close my eyes and part my lips, I feel his lips, chastely on my cheek.

"I thought you were going to kiss me," I pout.

"I'm quite sure that those were my lips on your face."

"Are you kidding?"

"No," he says and his voice is tight. "Goodnight, Bella. I love you."

"I love you, too," I grumble.

Fuck my life.

**Wednesday Afternoon**

"Fuck," I mumble to myself as I dry my hair with a towel before wrapping it around my head. "He's got to cave tonight."

So, Edward is really getting on my nerves with this whole I-made-a-promise-to-your-father thing. He hasn't touched me once – not once – in any way that could be considered remotely sexually affectionate. Well, he has kissed my cheek and held my hand. And he's doing this kissing my fingers thing that normally I would love and find very Austenian, but now it just makes me think about the fact that it's been almost a month since he's been inside me and I really want him kissing other things. Yes, kissing other things and maybe letting me kiss his fingers before he puts them in my….

"Bella." The sound of Edward's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Are you feeling well? You look like you're hot. . . I mean, feverish."

Jesus, my whole mouth just filled with saliva.

And my nipples are hard.

And yeah, it's like a leaky faucet down there.

I look over at him and he's standing in the doorway to my bedroom. I think I catch him looking at my bed and the thought of that excites me. Excitement is immediately followed by frustration because I know that it doesn't matter if he's looking at my bed. He has the self-control of…well, I don't know anyone who has that much self-control. Clearly, I do not have any of my own. Well, that's not true. I must have some. I mean, I haven't jumped him yet and begged him to fuck me.

Damn it.

How hot would that be?

And now the leaking is a steady stream.

"Bella," he says my name again. "Are you okay?"

I look at him, smiling and blushing. I wonder if he can tell what I was thinking. I wonder if maybe I want him to know what I was thinking…am thinking…will be thinking until he's inside me again.

"I'm fine," I say, walking over toward him. His entire posture changes and he's stiff…standing up straighter. "How are you?"

"I'm, um, trying to comply with the rules of the house. You make it very difficult."

I am covered completely…modest even. I am wearing a terrycloth robe, but I know that he knows that there is nothing else underneath the cotton. Nothing but my breasts and of course, the leaking.

"I miss you," I tell him.

I want to pull him by the silk tie that he's wearing and cover his mouth with kisses. Oh, yeah. Another thing…Edward has only worn dress pants and shirts and ties since he got here in an attempt to impress my father. I want to tell him how ridiculous that is since Charlie doesn't even own a tie himself, but I have said nothing. Mostly because I don't want to hurt his feelings, but also because he looks so fucking hot in a tie.

"I miss you, too," he says.

His voice is lower than before…tighter. I wonder if he's as affected as me. I look down and yes…he is. Jesus, I can see the line of his cock through his pants. My single thread of self-control is pulled as tight as his pants must be and my hand twitches at my side. I want to reach out and touch it…touch him.

"My body misses you, Edward," I say, trying to sound sexy, but knowing that it sounds like I'm whining. So I pull out the one thing in my arsenal that I have been saving. This really needs to work...it has to work. "And it looks like your body misses me, too. And you know...I was thinking. You've been tested...I've been tested and I'm on the pill. And I know that you are going to be the only one...you know...ever. So the next time we have sex...we don't have to use a condom. That is...you know...if you want to."

I blatantly look down at the tent in his pants and the thread snaps. The thread snaps and is now two threads. And their only mission in life is to be a part of the yarn that was used to make the carpet on my floor that I want to have sex with him on.

"Fuck, Bella. What are you doing to me? God, I want you so badly," he begs.

Just as I am about to reach out and touch him, I hear my mother's voice coming from the hall.

"There you kids are!" she exclaims.

Edward is visibly startled as he backs away from the door. My mother walks in and I decide that they need to invent a new word for frustrated – because frustrated does no justice in describing the level of frustration I am feeling at the moment.

Fuck.

My mom looks at me then back to Edward, smiling the entire time.

"So," she says. "What are you two doing?"

"Umm…err…nothing," Edward stammers.

I notice that she's holding a box. I didn't notice it before, but that was because I was too consumed with staring at his cock. I want to look over to see if he's still hard, but that would be too obvious. Wouldn't it?

"Umm, what's in the box, Mom? I ask.

Her eyes light up and she looks over at Edward.

"Well," she starts, "I made Edward a present."

"Oh?" I ask. "What did you make him?"

She turns to Edward – who is still standing in the hallway – and starts talking.

"I was thinking that you must be hot," she says. "Hot like the sun – not hot like Tom Selleck. I always loved Magnum PI. That was one of the things that first attracted me to Charlie. There's something about a man with a mustache. It's just so…manly. Don't take that the wrong way, sweetie. I think you're very handsome. But you're not really my type."

She winks at him and I want to die.

Mostly because I've gone from completely turned on to thinking about my mom and Tom Selleck and how my dad really does look a lot like him. Well, kind of…maybe...if you squinted and he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Yeah. There is nothing arousing about that.

Thankfully, my mother's rambling continues and pulls me from my thoughts.

"I mean, it is Phoenix in July and it's really hot here. You know, seeing as how it's the desert and all. Anyway, you've been wearing nothing but fancy clothes since you got here and while I think you look very handsome, I also think that you must be dying. So, this afternoon, I made you something. I really hope you like it."

"You made me something, Mrs. Swan?" Edward asks, finally stepping fully into the room for the first time. "You didn't have to do that."

"Oh, it's no problem," she tells him as she hands him the box. "I make these all the time and I think that you are going to be so much more comfortable in this."

I am about to ask what it is because I have a sneaking suspicion of what she's made. I have several of them in a variety of different colors. I don't get the chance to ask because I watch as Edward pulls the multi-colored, tie-dyed shirt out. He tries to mask the mortification on his face, but I see it before he smiles at my mom.

"It's very . . . colorful. Thank you for the gift."

"Oh, don't you worry about it," my mom says. "And I want to see you wearing this shirt when we have dinner this evening. I want you to be comfortable in our home, Edward. Bella told me…you're important."

He looks at me and smiles and he is so heartbreakingly beautiful when he smiles, that I almost forget to breathe. Yeah, he is so all mine…it doesn't matter if he's in a tie or a tie-dyed shirt.

"You are," I tell him.

x-x-x-x-x

**EPOV**

**Friday Afternoon**

"Isabella," I scold her, "you need to stop tormenting me. I can barely function right now." I sit in the den, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. All week she's been wiggling her little behind, licking her lips, rubbing against me – trying to get me to give in and make love to her in her father's house. I've tried to be the voice of reason and maintain decorum, but she's pushed me to my limits of self-control. Right now she's bending over, with her loose-fitting blouse gaping open so I can see her breasts through her transparent bra. She knows I'm crippled by her nipples. She smiles, evilly, knowing she's tearing down my façade of carefully-maintained control.

"Edward," she whispers, "I have a present for you." She reaches down under her skirt and shimmies. . .oh dear god. Not the panties. She swings the scrap of lace around her finger, and then stuffs it in the front pocket of my pants. While she's there, she gropes the part of me that she's tortured the most – I mean, seriously, she owes my cock an apology. It's not even gotten relief in the shower due to my reticence at any kind of sexual contact. My cock betrays me by hardening immediately. It's not a surprise because I've been erect all week. I contemplated untucking my shirt to cover it, but decided I didn't want to appear unkempt. Besides, Bella was the only one who noticed.

"Bella, please. I can't make love to you," I beg, leaning my forehead against hers. My voice is hoarse with need. I have to resist. I made a promise. But damn it, it's been three weeks. And the love of my life wants me. She presses against me and licks my neck. I groan, loudly. My control is hanging on by a taut thread.

Then, the thread fucking disintegrates when she whispers in my ear, "Edward, please, baby. I don't want you to make love to me. I need you to fuck me."

Oh, holy shit.

"You want me to fuck you, Bella?" I growl. "Tell me, because I live to give you what you want. I can't deny you anymore." I grab her because I can't resist. I pull her into the closet because it seems even more forbidden than the couch in the den, and if I'm breaking the rules I might as well do it 110 percent.

"God, yes! I've wanted you to fuck me all week!"

It's dark and it smells faintly of oil and steel, but I don't care. Bella is in my arms and I can't wait any longer. I'm kissing her, my tongue exploring, delving. The little sounds that slip out between her very occupied lips make me want her more. Though I wish I could tease her back by taking this slow; I can't. I hope that she won't be disgusted by my domineering tone. What if she slapped me? I press on, because my erection is now telling me what to do. I don't mean that literally of course. I know my brain controls my bodily functions, but the engorgement in my pants makes me doubt scientific fact.

"I need to feel you. Now," I pant into her mouth as I reach under her skirt to see if she's ready for me. There's no barrier between my fingers and her arousal and I know she wants this. This evidence is incontrovertible. I'm feeling smug because she's wet for me. Me. Edward Masen. Girls used to button up their clothing when they saw me. Now my hot girlfriend was tucking damp thongs into my pocket and unbuttoning my shirt and loosening my tie. I smirk at the thought, and she notices because she says, "Yes, Edward. I've been wet for you all week. Leaking even. Please...just...please."

I push her, gently of course because I'm not a ruffian, against the wall of the closet. My body has taken over like I'm a sexbot. The effect could be similar to the way an addict reacts because nothing or no one could stop me from what I want. I don't know much about sexual addiction, but suddenly I'm commiserating with those poor bastards. I pull off her blouse and bra in a blur of hands and arms.

I'm kissing her – it's desperate and wild – lips and tongue and neck and breasts. I know I have to get some semblance of control or I will finish as soon as I'm released from my boxer briefs. I need to take care of her needs first. Her pleasure will always be my priority. My hand glides up the inside of her thigh. Jesus, she's so wet and warm. To get a better angle, I prop up her leg on a box – is that ammunition? I hope it doesn't go off because it's fucking hot in here. I try to focus my fingers on the spot where I know will make her arch and moan my name. I stroke her rhythmically, my hand feeling her. . .loving her.

She cries out, pulling me toward her by my tie and I know I'm in the right place. "Yes," I cry, thrilled that I know her body so well. "Bella, please." In only a few minutes she's shaking and her breathing is erratic from her orgasm. I'm thrilled at my victory; her face and sounds are my prize. Even in the dim light I can see her excitement. I press against her, every inch of me on her, over her – but I need to be in her – my fingers are not enough.

"I want to try something," I whisper in her ear. "Turn around and hold on the gun rack. I'm going to fuck you now. Like this." She whimpers, but turns quickly and hoists up her little bottom towards me. I pull down her skirt, and marvel at her body that is waiting and ready for me.

"You said 'now', Edward," she purrs over her shoulder.

I nearly ruin my pants in my haste to lower them as fast as possible. My favorite khakis are not a casualty, however, as I manage to free my ready erection without mishap. I rub myself against her slick heat and I nearly release on contact. I bite my lip and think about my humiliation of our first sexual encounter, which makes me get focused. Bella arches back against me and I push in, smoothly, loving the perfect feeling. The sensation is even more intense without the latex barrier - I didn't think her body could bring me more pleasure, but it is. This is how I know she and I were made for each other. It's not just a movie quote. It's the way we fit together – and not just physically.

I grasp her hair with one hand, twisting her tendrils around my wrist, so I can kiss and nibble on her neck as I rock against her. My other hand is gripping her hip, guiding my movements. She tells me to go harder and now I'm slick with sweat from my relentless pace. The only noises are our moans and the slapping sound of our bodies colliding.

"You're amazing, Bella. Fuck, I love you. You're fucking perfect for me," I moan.

"Uh...oh, god...fuck, I love you too, Edward!"

She moves her foot on top of the ammo box, changing the angle. I'm going deeper and I know I'm so close and I can't hold out much longer.

"Baby, please. Tell me you're close. I need you –" I pant, desperately.

"Don't fucking stop, Edward," she demands. I can't help but speed up. I'm pounding into her mercilessly at this point. . .and she's almost there with me. I can feel it.

I know she's going to scream and I tell her she needs to stay quiet. She grabs my hand out of her hair and bites my palm. My thumb slips into her mouth and she sucks on it. Jesus. Her body is taking me in two places and I'm trying to hold out. . ."God, Bella. . . I can't . . ."

"Hmmmmm," she whimpers as she tightens around me. My thrusting becomes errant and clumsy as I release into her. My orgasm has wrecked me, and I lean over her, spent – our perspiration sticky and hot between our bodies. We are still joined; I don't want to leave this little bubble of perfection.

Slowly, I withdraw. I turn her around and kiss her soundly on the mouth. "I love you, Bella. Thank you. That was. . .I don't even have an appropriate word for how incredible you make me feel."

"Amazing," she whispers, clinging to me.

I reach into my pocket for my handkerchief. As gently as possible, I try to help her clean up. She's obviously tender because she whimpers a bit - well, I was backed up for weeks and she was begging me to go harder. I whisper, "I'm sorry," as I kiss her softly. We dress and emerge from the tiny room. Yes, I just had insanely hot sex in her dad's gun closet. I shake my head at the thought of what Charlie would have done if we got caught. She knows what I'm thinking and she giggles.

At that moment, Renee walks in. I start coughing- I know it's psychosomatic due to the stress of the situation. We both are still glistening and Bella's hair is a glorious riot due to my earlier fondling. She peruses our disheveled states and raises an eyebrow. My head dips down in embarrassment. She laughs and says, "It's about time. The tension around here was unbearable." Bella groans into my side and I look at Renee in amazement. She winks and walks up the stairs. I hear her yelling to Charlie.

"Charlie, I don't think they want to go to the shooting range. Edward knows how to handle his weapon. Bella already showed him how to unload it."

x

x

x

x

**End Notes:**

Reviews are fucking awesome. Almost as amazing as Rob. Well, pretty close. We love all of them. Well, not the ones that insult us.

Seriously, we really are working on the FGB Outtakes. We promised them, and you'll get them. Soon. Forreals. Thank you for your patience.

Oh, BTW, someone really pretty nom'd LiMB for The Twilight All-Human Awards. Go vote or some shit. And tell us that you nom'd us so we can kiss you and maybe grope your boob.

**Rec's:** (in effect)

**cosmogirl7481**: I Just Needed You by Nerac. This is a novella-length fic and it is complete. It's so wonderful and has a Bella that I adore and an Edward that is swoon-worthy. Please read and leave her some love.

**Marvar:** Beyond Time by TKegl is just, wow. After Edward leaves her, Bella goes back in time through a Quileute ritual to 1918 and meets a human Edward. She has a chance to do everything over. I'm so caught up in the story and I can't wait to see how it ends.

Follow us on Twitter: cosmogirl7481 and marvar29


	22. Re: The Games People Play

A/N:

cosmogirl7481: So, we know it's been two weeks, but I promise that we are writing whenever we aren't working...or tweeting...or looking at RobP0rn...or having real life lemons.

marvar: I usually do all of those at the same time. Cosmo loves me for my multi-tasking abilities. Hubs tries to ignore the Rob pics.

cosmogirl7481: I do love your ability to multi-task. I also love your ability to dream up fucktastic lemons that I could never ever think of in a million years. Oh, and I also love your ass.

.

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**Chapter 21**

**Re: The Games People Play**

**.**

**.**

**BPOV**

"Esme?"

"Yes."

"Hi. Umm, this is Bella and I was wondering if I could talk to you about something."

"Oh, Bella dear!" she exclaims and I wonder if she's been drinking because no one is this happy at eight in the morning. "It's wonderful to hear from you. Edward told me that you had a wonderful time in Arizona. He said your parents were lovely and interesting."

"Yeah, I'm sure that was his wonderful and sweet way of saying that they were ridiculous and crazy," I tell her, giggling. "It was great and I was just really happy to be with him again. And umm…I'm sorry that I didn't say more to you at the airport. I'm really happy that you guys are here now. It's just that…well, I was just so happy to see him that I kind of lost all my manners and ignored everyone but him. I didn't mean to and I hope that you don't think I'm rude."

"Oh, dear. Don't you worry about that," she tells me. "Edward was just as enamored of you. He wouldn't stop tapping his foot the entire time we were in the air. His father asked if he could give him an Ativan to settle his nerves. Edward told him that he didn't believe in unnecessary medicating and that he was also opposed to sharing prescriptions," she says as she chuckles. "I knew that an Ativan wasn't what he needed. He needed you, Bella. And maybe a cocktail."

"Yeah," I say, slightly stunned by how wonderful it was to hear Edward's mother talk about how much I meant to him. "I needed him, too."

"So, what can I do for you, dear?"

"Well, it's Edward's birthday this weekend and…wait. Fuck, of course you know it's his birthday. Fuck, I'm sorry I said fuck. You did give birth to him after all. I mean, I've never delivered a baby of my own, but I can only imagine that it's not a pain that you would easily forget. Not that you regret it or anything. Just that it's probably not the best memory of your life." I ramble nervously, dying of embarrassment.

"Take a deep breath, dear," she tells me. "And you're right. The delivery isn't my favorite memory at all. My favorite memory is actually of me and Carlisle on our honeymoon in Paris. He did this one thing with his tongue…"

_Fuck my life._

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Esme," I tell her quickly, not wanting to listen to any more stories about Carlisle and ass-play. Or tongue play. "Anyway, I was thinking about throwing him a surprise party and I wondered if you and Alice might like to help me plan it?"

"I would love to!" she exclaims. "And I know that Alice will love that, too. She loves parties! What kind of celebration were you thinking of, dear?"

"Well, I was thinking that we could have a dinner party with his friends and family in his new condo. I think that he might enjoy a quiet evening in. That's much more his speed. Besides, we only have until tomorrow night to pull this together."

"Alright, dear," she says. "Why don't you meet me and Alice for lunch today? We can plan everything out then."

"Perfect," I tell her. "Oh, by the way…do you mind if my friend Rose joins us?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Why do I need to come to this lunch with the mother-in-law, Bella?" Rose whines as we pull up to the restaurant that Esme suggested.

"First of all, she's not my mother-in-law."

"_Yet_," she smirks and my heart skips a beat at just the thought.

"Secondly," I say, looking straight at her over the console of the car. "I need you here for moral support. You know, for when Esme and Alice start talking about sex with Jasper and Dr. Cullen."

"Seriously, Bella," she says. "I'm not even gonna lie. The thought of tantric or whatever the fuck kind of sex Alice has with Jasper squicks me out. Although, I do wonder if he has any interesting uses for those fucking crystals," she snorts. "Now there's an idea. Crystals…you know. For fucking."

"Eww… gross, Rosalie Hale!" I screech. "Please never say those words to me again."

When we walk into the restaurant, Esme and Alice are already there waiting…at the bar.

"Looks like Mama Cullen has begun sampling the sauce," Rose says. "I think I like her already."

"Just wait," I tell her, giggling.

They wave us over and after all the greeting and hugs, Esme tell us to have a seat.

"So, I was thinking," she begins. "The reason I said that we should meet here is because this place has the very best catering service. I've already asked and they will be available to cater the dinner tomorrow night. That is…well, unless you wanted to cook, Bella."

"Oh, no…catering will be fine," I tell her and Rosalie chokes next to me.

"Umm…yeah," she says. "Bella doesn't really cook. She does make a mean bowl of Cheerios with soy milk, though."

"Shut up, Rose," I tell her. "I can cook."

"You can cook spaghetti," she says.

"Well, spaghetti is lovely," Esme offers. "There's nothing I love as much as a hot, long noodle."

"Really, Mom?" Alice shrieks while Rose chokes again and I motion for the bartender to bring me a glass of wine. "We talked about this!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Alice." Esme smiles. "If you think I was referring to anything other than something made from Semolina wheat, then _you_ are the one with a dirty mind." She takes a drink of her cocktail. "Spaghetti is _nowhere near_ a good representation of your father's…erm…noodle. He would be more along the lines of a manicotti. You know, big and thick… and filled with sticky, creamy filling."

_Jesus Christ._

_I'm going to need something stronger than this wine._

"So, Esme," Rose says, laughing. "What are you drinking there?"

"Oh, this place makes the best Manhattans."

"I'll take one of those," Rose tells the bartender.

"Me, too," I add.

Once we are seated at the table, we decide that Alice will handle all the flowers and decorations. Food and wine will be delivered an hour before the party. Esme decides that Coq au Vin would be served for dinner and I was all for that if it means the remote possibility that Edward might speak French. Basically, all I am responsible for is bringing Edward to the party. So, yeah…planning this with them is the best fucking idea ever.

"Wait!" I exclaim. "We didn't think about the birthday cake."

"Oh that's easy, dear," Esme tells me. "I will bring the cake."

"Does Edward have a favorite cake?" I ask.

"Yes," Alice says. "Edward loves Lemon cake!"

"That's kind of gay, isn't it?" Rose snorts and I shoot her a dirty look.

"Well, Rosalie…I'm not sure what you mean about Lemon cakes being gay," Esme says as she takes another drink of her Manhattan. "But you should know that Emmett's favorite cake is Strawberry Shortcake."

Alice and I laugh hysterically at this piece of information because let's face it…Emmett loving Strawberry Shortcake is pretty fucking awesome.

"How do you know that?" Rose asks, shocked and giggling.

"Oh, well…he told me when he came home with Edward one weekend during undergrad," Esme offers. "It was what he asked me to make for dessert."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"What time are the guys going to be here?" Rose asks as she walks into my bedroom.

"Edward said that they would be here around seven," I tell her. "Why?"

"Well, I was going to order the pizza," she tells me. "Is pepperoni okay? Or does Edward like some weird anchovies and pineapple bullshit? Because Emmett will eat anything."

"No. Pepperoni should be fine," I tell her. "Go ahead and order so that it will get here around the time that they get here. I'll set up the game."

"Okay. By the way, Bella," she says as she turns around to walk out. "What are we playing?"

"Trivial Pursuit."

-x-

-x-

-x-

"Fuck, no!" Emmett yells. "I'm not playing Trivial Pursuit with Edward unless I am on his team."

"I don't know what the fuck you're trying to imply, douche," Rose says, punching Emmett in the arm. Hard. "But I am more than capable of beating Meredith and Derrick here at a general knowledge game. Well, _I _am...but I don't know about _you_."

"Don't be like that, baby," Emmett replies, rubbing his arm. "What I _meant_ to say was that I would only play if I could be on _your_ team."

"Oh, yeah?" she asks. "That's what I thought you meant."

I smile at them because even though they are giving each other a hard time, I have never seen Rosalie happier and I love how much Emmett makes her smile. I look over at Edward as he reads the game instructions and the fact that he is reading them only makes me love him more.

"You wanna be on my team, right?" I ask Edward, trailing my fingers up his arm.

He pulls his eyes from the manual and says, "I want to be where ever you are."

We find ourselves seated on the floor around our coffee table. Emmett and Edward tell us to choose our pie colors. I choose green because – well, let's face it – green has officially replaced purple as my favorite color. Nothing on Edward's body is purple. As I think about that, I realize that's not entirely true. The tip of his cock is _kind of_ purplish when he's all aroused and hard. And then I'm thinking about Edward being hard and how much I want to…

"Pink is for pussies, Rose!" Emmett yells, pulling me from my dirty thoughts.

"Well, then," she tells him sarcastically. "It would seem like you'd be more than a little happy to have some pink in your life then, Emmett. Especially since you're not getting any pu…"

"Really, Rose?" I ask her, shocked that she would talk about that on front of Edward.

"What?" Emmett says. "It's not like there's anyone here that doesn't know the sad and lonely state of my dick right now."

And just like that, my mind wonders back to thinking about Edward…and hard…and purple.

It's amazing how I never considered myself to be sex-obsessed, but with Edward, I find it's all I think about. Well, not _all_ I think about. I think about how much I love him all the time, too. Oh, and I also think about how happy I am that he's finally here and how the distance of the entire fucking country no longer separates us. The only thing separating us right now is about three inches and the thin, worn soccer t-shirt that he's wearing with the number 17 on it.

Oh, and 17 is now my new favorite number.

"Emmett, could you please refrain from speaking about your…umm, manhood in front of my girlfriend?" Edward says before looking over at me and kissing my cheek. "Green is the perfect color, Bella. I was hoping you would choose that one. Did you choose it for me because it represents Science and Nature?"

"Goddamn, you two," Rosalie says, shaking her head and laughing. She also rolls her eyes, but I choose to ignore it since I kind of feel bad that she hasn't had sex in a while. "And don't get your boxer-briefs in a bunch, Edward. Emmett can talk about his dick. It's not like Bella hasn't talked about yours."

"I have not!" I hiss.

"Well, you didn't have to," she snorts. "Your crooked walk spoke for itself when you got back from New Hampshire."

I'm pretty sure I see Edward grin for a second before he composes himself.

"What about you, baby?" Emmett asks. "Did you have a crooked walk, too?"

"Not only that," Rose tells him. "I also had a broken blender."

-x-

-x-

-x-

So, yeah…apparently, Edward and Emmett are really competitive. And Rose is pretty fucking brilliant. I'm not even kidding a little bit when I tell you that I seriously thought that Edward and I would kill them in Trivial Pursuit. I'm an intelligent woman, but Edward…well, Edward is a genius. I'm sure if I asked, he could show me his Mensa card or a copy of his most recent IQ test results.

The game is completely tied at the moment. Both teams have their pies filled and Emmett and Rose keep choosing pink for us to answer since Edward isn't really knowledgeable about "Entertainment." And we keep choosing brown for them to answer since – according to Edward – Emmett only reads Sports Illustrated and Archie Comics.

"What's the matter, Ed?" Emmett taunts. "Didn't they teach you who portrayed Flo on _Alice_ in medical school?"

"Of course not," Edward scoffs indignantly. "You know that has nothing to do with medicine and biology. And what is Alice?"

Emmett guffaws as he slaps his hand on the table.

"Dude, it was a show in the seventies," he chuckles. "And Polly Holliday played Flo."

"Seriously, Emmett?" Rose says. "If that's your idea of trash talk, I might have to extend the no-fucking period…indefinitely. And how the hell do you know who played Flo on fucking Alice?"

"What?" he asks. "My mom watched it and I was observant."

"Sexy, Em," she says laughing. "Really, fucking sexy."

"Alright, Eddie boy," Emmett says, picking up a card. "We're obviously choosing pink for you guys." He holds the card up as he reads. "_Motherfucker_," he grumbles.

I smile at Edward thinking that the question must be easy. His returning smile is crooked (like my walk) and he kisses me softly on the lips.

"Go ahead, Emmett," Edward says, smirking. "Ask the question."

"Fine," he huffs. "Who was the voice behind Darth Vader in the Star Wars movies?" He turns to Rose and apologizes. "I'm sorry, babes. I didn't think we would lose because they got such an easy fucking question."

I feel Edward completely tense up next to me and I look over at him, concerned at his sudden change in demeanor.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I hope you know the answer to this question, Bella...because I don't."

"You've never seen _Star Wars_?" I ask.

"No," he states calmly. "Never. I only watch movies while flying and when I'm with Nana Cullen."

"Fuckin' A, man," Emmett howls with laughter. "How the fuck did you grow up without watching _Star Wars_?"

"I was into science, Emmett. Not science-fiction."

"It's okay, baby," I whisper. "We can try again with another question."

"So are you guys saying you don't know the answer?" Rose asks.

"Yeah," I tell her. "I guess so."

"James Earl Jones!" Emmett yells. "I can't believe you don't know who Darth Vader is, dude!"

"Unless he invented a vaccine or medical procedure, I'm not concerned."

"That's like, un-American, or some shit."

"Alright," I tell them, picking up a card. "We are choosing brown for you."

"Bring it, Bella." Emmett says.

"Alright," I say. "Consider it brought. Who is the author of _A Brief History of Time_?"

I look at Edward and he is beaming. You know, because he probably knows Stephen Hawking personally and has coffee with him at the monthly Mensa meeting. And then I look at Emmett...and he is definitely not beaming. He looks pissed.

And Rose..._Rose looks smug_.

"Stephen Hawking," she announces. "And I told you, Emmett. I am not only the hottest woman that you've ever been with ...I'm also the smartest."

"You are, baby," he says right before he kisses her firmly on the lips. "We won! We motherfucking won!"

"Umm...you need to step it on back, Mr. McCarty," she tells him as she stands up. "I do believe that I just won that shit for us."

I'm giggling until I look at Edward and he looks defeated and pouty. I might want to suck his bottom lip and maybe lick it a little. I reach across the three inch distance and hug him, telling him, "It's okay, sweetie. I don't mind losing as long as you're my consolation prize. You'd be my grand prize if we'd won."

"Only you would think of me as a prize, Bella. But I think I'm the winner."

While I'm cleaning up the game, Rosalie comes back into the living room with sheets, pillows and a blanket.

"Are you shitting me, Rose? Do I really have to sleep there? I promise not to touch anything if you let me sleep with you."

"You have three weeks left, Emmett...and no, I'm not shitting you," she tells him as she begins to make up the couch. "Besides, this is my pillow. You can touch it all you want to. It smells just like me."

"Somehow I don't think I'll get the same effect."

Once Edward and I get into my bedroom, I tell him to get comfortable while I go into the bathroom to get ready for bed. When I come out, he's laying down, but still pouting...and still beautiful.

_Yeah, I love having him here in my bed._

"Hey," I whisper as he looks over at me. His eyes widen momentarily and I know he notices what I'm wearing.

"Yes. And I belong to you."

I crawl in bed beside him and he immediately pulls me close. I can tell he's still slightly upset about losing so I run my fingers through his hair and softly kiss his lips. He groans into my mouth a little and fuck, I love that sound so much.

"You know what?" I ask.

"What?"

"I know you're still bummed over the game, Edward," I tell him, sucking on his earlobe a little. "And I would gladly stroke your ego all night long, but I'd much rather stroke something else."

And I do.

x~x~x~x~x

**EPOV**

"Happy birthday, dude," Emmett greets me at the door with a hug. I step back and invite him in. "Oh, this is the shit, Edward!" Emmett exclaims as he walks into my new condo. I'm pleased that he approves. When he puts out his fist, I bump it. I'm a fast learner.

"Thank you, Emmett. I'm nearly done unpacking. Look around, I have an excellent view from the balcony."

I continue with my mundane tasks while Emmett peruses my view.

"Holy shit, you have an enormous Jacuzzi. That's so awesome. I need to get my ass in there pronto. My back is fucking killing me from the couch last night." He mumbles something about "fucking sexbargo" and "sciatica." He whistles as he looks at the marble-tiled tub. "Damn. Think of all the fuck-"

I stop him right there. I don't want him in my spa, nor do I want him to talk about my love life. He makes it sound rated X. It is, but it seems tawdry coming from him. I don't tell him that I've fantasized about Bella and me in the hot tub. I know that it would be fodder for his perverted ramblings for months. He's especially graphic these days because of his moratorium on intercourse.

"Technically it's not a Jacuzzi, it's a spa, or hot tub. A Jacuzzi is a brand of spa," I inform him. "And there will be no "fucking" in my tub." I don't tell him I only "fuck" in gun closets in my girlfriend's childhood home. That would give him more ammunition, so to speak. I snort, because that's actually funny. I am loosening up.

Emmett mutters something about "anal" and "know-it-all" and I'm sure he's insulting me and not talking about sex. That would be beyond his level of graphic content. I'm not offended because that's just Emmett.

I take him on a tour of the rest of the place. It's mostly furnished, the seller throwing in the furniture with the purchase price. Alice said it was a "steal." She supervised the purchase for me while I was in Hanover. I'm pleased with the results. It's a bit ostentatious, but I've removed most of the gaudy artwork and furnishings. The previous owner seemed to be obsessed with a lovely dark-haired woman. I only wanted one dark-haired beauty's face to adorn my walls.

"Son of a bitch!" Emmett exclaims. He's getting loud again. "I saw this place on fucking Cribs!"

Again I wish I knew what he was yelling about. "Fucking cribs" sounded wrong on many levels. Those two words do not go together in my opinion.

"Please explain, Emmett," I demand.

"Fucking Ashton Kutcher showed this place on _Cribs_. It's a show on MTV. Oh shit, that's Demi," he says as he spots the pile of prints I've removed. "Damn, she's hot," he whispers.

I'm assuming that this "Demi" is also famous, and "fucking" is Emmett's new favorite adjective. That's likely because it's no longer a verb for him. At least for the next few weeks.

"I wonder if the stripper pole is still here?" he says as he rushes to the bedroom. "Demi showed off her _Striptease_ moves on _Cribs_. . ." his voice trails off as he disappears down the hallway. I follow him to see what he is talking about, although I know there is no pole in my room.

"Bummer. They removed it," he whines as he stares at the ceiling. How on earth did he think I'd have a stripper pole in my room? "Damn, Demi was naked in your jacuzzi, you lucky fuck," he breathes. Like I care. The only naked woman that will grace my hot tub is my Bella. I can do without the "Ashton and Demi" bacteria. Especially if this "Demi" was a stripper. Now I'm extremely gratified that I had every square inch of this place steam cleaned and disinfected and the spa drained.

Emmett looks at me in awe and shakes his head. He walks back to the living room and plops onto my new sectional couch.

"Hey Emmett, you can watch television while I finish unpacking." I really don't want him to touch anything, even though that's why he's here. I remember his inefficiency during packing so he'll only put me off schedule. "The remote is on the table."

He pushes the buttons on remote and the screens slide down. He moans and slaps his forehead. "Son of a. . .I forgot about the three 80 inch screens…Edward, where is your porn?"

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"Surprise!" my family and friends exclaim. Fuck. My tongue is in Bella's mouth and my hand is up her dress. I'm not sure my parents will appreciate that.

Emmett will. But I'm not an exhibitionist.

No wonder she was trying to keep me from kissing her. Obviously it was a half-hearted attempt, but an attempt nonetheless. I hope I haven't embarrassed her with my amorous advances.

I regretfully tear my lips and hands from my girlfriend to face my guests. Yes, thank you for ripping my birthday present from my hands. I was trying to unwrap it. Bella looks slightly dazed but quickly recovers to hug me and wish me "happy birthday" once again. She whispers in my ear that I can finish opening my gift later when everyone leaves and I hope she means sex. The quick swipe of her tongue on my earlobe tells me my thinking is correct.

My father clears his throat and I turn around, embarrassed.

"Sorry, son. This actually was Bella's idea," he chuckles. "Anyway, happy birthday." I hug my father and greet my guests: my mother and father, Alice and . . .sigh, Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett, and my Bella. I see flowers and decorations and the table is beautifully set. I guess we're having dinner. I hope it's not pizza. My stomach is still recovering from that abomination called "pizza" from last night. I can't wait until I take Bella to Italy so she can get real pizza.

"My baby boy is twenty-five!" Esme exclaims. She's holding a glass of something I'll assume isn't water. I kiss my mother and greet my sister and her companion. I guess they're still together. I feel a twinge of guilt for wishing her be single again. I hold out my hand to Jasper and I get a handful of feathers. Ok, so the guilt is now nonexistent.

"Hey, Edward. I'm channeling some really negative energy here." Hey, maybe he actually_ can_ sense something. "I'm glad I brought my essential oils. I'm going to give you a massage and cleanse your aura as our birthday present to you," he says. I stare, blankly, as Alice rubs his back in pride. Bella giggles and grabs my hand. Of course she can sense my discomfort. She's my soulmate (if there is such a thing - I'm leaning towards "yes" even without scientific evidence).

"Only I can get my hands on Edward, Jasper. But thanks for the thought, right Edward?" she prods. I mumble my agreement.

"What the fuck is that about? Who invited the mahatma?" Emmett whisper-yells like only he can. Rosalie pokes him in the ribs as he shovels three appetizers in his mouth.

"You know that's Alice's husband, Emmett. Be nice," she scolds him, "even though he's totally weird."

"I'm just saying, if he tries to get all Kama Sutra with me, I'm not responsible for my actions. I don't want anyone aligning my chakras. They're fine the way they are."

"He doesn't mean any harm, Emmett," Bella says. "That's just who he is. Look at how happy Alice looks. The Kama Sutra must be working for her and her chakras have never looked better."

"He scares me, Bella. Earlier he held a fucking rock by my balls and said I need to release my life force. Is he psychic or some shit?"

"You let him hold something near your balls, baby?" Rose asks. "I'm pretty sure that if I can't do anything with your balls, no one else should be doing anything with them either. And I'm sure your life force is being released. It still counts even if it's in your own hand."

Lucky for me, Rosalie grabs him and takes him to get a drink. I'm already exhausted and we haven't even sat down for dinner. Trying to erase disturbing images is taxing.

Alice signals us that dinner is ready and we walk to the dining room. I hold Bella's chair and then sit down. She beams at me and takes my hand and suddenly everything is perfect. I mouth "I love you" to her, and I think my mother notices, because she makes a strange sound like she's swallowing a sob.

"What are we having?" I ask.

"Coq au Vin, just like we had in France last summer," Alice beams.

I return the smile because I love my little sister, even though she has questionable taste in husbands.

"_Merci pour une belle fete_," I tell her. I say a few more phrases in French when I see Bella giving me the look that makes me want to take her to my room. Or a nearby closet.

The conversation drifts from my new position at the hospital to my father's new job. I try to ignore Jasper who is talking about colors of auras and a summer visit to a commune in South Dakota. The only thing stranger than Jasper is the fact that my sister obviously loves him.

"The food is delicious, Esme," Rosalie comments. Everyone nods their agreement. I hear her mutter under her breath, "And so is your husband."

Emmett rolls his eyes and chomps down on a huge piece. "Yeah, Mrs. C, I never thought I'd enjoy having cock in my mouth."

I choke on a piece of cock, er, chicken. My mother grins and says, "It's my favorite."

_Oh dear god_.

Bella whispers in my ear as she runs her hand up my thigh. "Well, I don't know about the bird, but I definitely enjoy your cock quite a bit, Dr. Masen."

My girlfriend is amazing. I wonder how long it will take for everyone to get out of my house. I would really like to provide her with as much enjoyment as possible.

I notice Jasper is not eating but instead is chanting something and clutching feathers. I'm tempted to ask, but the answer will only irritate me.

"Hey, Jasper. Why the fu-, I mean hell, are you holding feathers?" Everyone turns to Jasper. It seems everyone wants to know, but only Emmett has no qualms about asking such a question.

"I'm trying to get the chicken to forgive you for his suffering. Edward doesn't need extra negative energy here. This place really saps my lifeforce," Jasper comments.

"Are you holding grapes there, too?" my mother slurs slightly. "Because I'm pretty sure a couple bottles of wine need to forgive me, as well."

"Mom," Alice says. "I think that Dad would need to buy Jasper an entire vineyard to make up for all the wine you've had."

My mom laughs and says, "Lighten up. Have a glass of wine, Jasper." She continues, "Oh, Carlisle," Mom says, smiling brightly, "do you remember that time that we went to the vineyard in France?"

My dad chuckles and coughs a bit.

"I never thought that they would catch us in such a compromising position in the cellar. Than goodness I was bent over that barrel and you were behind me. At least they couldn't see our faces."

The chicken isn't the only one who is suffering. I want to crawl into the closet. And not to have sex. Sex is the last thing on my mind. If there were such a thing as a reverse erection, I would have one right now. Bella notices my discomfort and whispers, "It's not that bad, Edward. I had to listen to her story about ass-play."

I try to keep the chicken down. Jasper may pass out if he could _actually_ feel negative energy. It would be rolling off of me in waves.

"Damn, Carlisle. That's badass," Emmett fist bumps my dad. "I hope I can still get busy like that when I'm fifty." Of course Emmett would enjoy that story. It also seems like my father does, too, judging by his grin.

Rose snorts. "You just wish you could get busy at all right now, Emmett," Rose admonishes him. "Now, shut the fuck up. Normally, I wouldn't say fuck at a fancy dinner, but I don't think anything is off-limits anymore. Good for you, Esme! A hot husband and hot sex. Normally, you only get one or the other."

"I know, dear," my mother agrees. "I'm very fortunate. But ladies, if you had to choose only one, which one would it be?"

"Hot sex," Rose and Alice say, almost in unison.

Once again, Bella whispers in my ear. "I think I have more in common with your mother than I originally thought."

"What do you mean, Bella? It's definitely not the drinking."

"I mean that I don't have to choose, Edward. With you, I get both."

I can't help but kiss her when she says this.

"So, dinner is over. I guess that's it, huh?" I ask in a not-so-subtle voice, hoping they'll leave and I can get my present.

"We still have the cake and presents," Alice insists.

I only want one thing, and she's making it clear that I'm going to get it by the way she's rubbing my leg. My mom emerges with my cake. She sets it before me. Mmm, lemon.

"And I have another surprise for you. You're going to love this!" Alice continues. "Guess who bought the condo next door? Me and Jasper!"

No.

"Isn't that the best news? You and Jasper can become great friends. Like brothers," she gushes.

Hell, no.

Now I wish I was an only child. Emmett looks horrified, which is the appropriate response to such news. This is in direct contrast to my parents' reaction, which is to congratulate Alice and him.

There's only one thing that will salvage this night. One fantasy that will erase the horror.

Me, Bella, and my hot tub. I reach for the remote to start the jets.

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**End Notes:**

We love all of your reviews. Please continue to leave us some love even though we are fail at responding.

We would like to thank the lovely Swimom7 for interviewing us on _So You Think You Can Write._ She's awesome. Go read the interview.

Also, we posted an outtake of LiMB on the Twinklings blogspot for Fuck Me Fridays.

Links:

www (dot) sytycw (dot) blogspot (dot) com

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Follow us on Twitter. I tweet Rob porn and nonsense. (marvar29)

Cosmo flirts with other authors and gives fic rec's. (cosmogirl7481)


	23. Re: Hot Tub Time with Peen

**A/N:**

cosmogirl7481: So, you realize that no man will ever be able to live up to Forthwithward, right?

marvar: Only Rob.

cosmogirl7481: I know you love Rob, we all do, but even he couldn't live up to the Edward that you created. J/S

marvar: *cries and runs out of the room*

cosmogirl7481: Happy tears?

marvar: *returns, sniffling* I'll forgive you for that blasphemy. Rob can do no wrong.

cosmogirl7481: Well, that's true...but can he do no wrong _and_ perform surgery on you when you need it?

marvar: Have you seen his fingers? He was born to operate.

cosmogirl7481: Have you seen his peen? That was created to operate, too.

marvar: And you just proved my point.

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**Chapter 22**

**Re: Hot Tub Time with Peen**

**BPOV**

I can't stop giggling.

I can't stop giggling and I don't know if it's all the wine I had at dinner or the fact that Edward barely blew his candles out before he graciously, but quickly, ushered his friends and family out of his new condo. Yeah. Pretty sure he's ready for his birthday present. And by birthday present, I don't mean the picture of us I'm giving him for his desk. I mean his other birthday present – the one where I'm naked and doing whatever he wants me to do.

The really great thing about being naked and doing whatever Edward wants to do is that he will probably be naked, too. And naked Edward is just the best gift that I can think of. And it's not even my birthday or Christmas…or Flag Day. Yeah, Charlie – patriot that he is – always celebrated Flag Day by buying my Mom and me something pretty. And by something pretty – I mean a Ronald Regan bobble head doll for me, and a ruby and sapphire flag pendant for my mom.

And now I'm giggling again.

Edward walks in from the balcony and I can see that he's lit some candles outside. Oh, and he's turned on the hot tub. I can see the steam rising and the bubbling water. I think that Dr. Masen might want to try out the amenities that his new residence has to offer. In other words – I think that Edward wants to have hot tub sex. Which, in my opinion, sounds like the hottest thing ever.

I want to clap and squeal but I think it would make me look like an idiot.

He walks over and pours us both another glass of wine. I want to tell him that I think I've had enough, but what's another glass?

"Bella, it's a lovely night," he says as he hands me the wine. He kisses me softly on the cheek and I feel my face flush with desire. "Would you care to accompany me to the balcony?"

"I'd love to," I tell him and I think I see him grin.

Oh yeah, this is gonna be so much fun.

We walk out on the balcony and I immediately go to the edge and pretend to ignore the bubbling tub of water in the corner. I see Edward out of the corner of my eye as he looks longingly at it. I take a drink of wine, hoping to stifle my laugh and end up choking. Edward comes over behind me, concerned and offering to do the Heimlich. I assure him that I'm all right and turn to face him as he pulls me into his arms.

"Happy birthday, Edward," I whisper. "Did you get everything that you wanted?"

"Everything that I want is right here," he tells me and I hear him sigh as he looks nervously over at the hot tub again. "It was perfect, Bella. You…you are perfect."

"No one is perfect, Edward," I tell him. "Well, that's not true. I mean…you are definitely perfect. Like, completely over the top, wonderful and so ridiculously perfect that I feel like I need to apologize to every other woman that I know or even see because there is no way that they could possibly have anyone as perfect as you in their lives."

I suck in a deep breath of air because, well, I am really out of breath. I expect Edward to laugh at my obvious lack of verbal filter, but when I look up at him, he is staring at the hot tub again. I think I hear him sigh again.

Unable to hide my grin, I ask, "Ummm... Edward, did you want to get in the hot tub?"

He looks down at me nervously, but he smiles. And the sight of his smile melts and warms me more than any hot water ever could. He takes our glasses and walks over to the table, placing them down.

"What makes you think that, Bella?"

"I don't know...just...well, maybe that you turned it on and keep looking at it like it's your new girlfriend," I tease him. "Your new...hot, bubbly girlfriend."

His face grows serious for a moment before he speaks.

"I will never have a 'new girlfriend,' even if you break up with me," he says. His expression softens as he looks at me. "And I thought maybe it would relax us. It's been a long day. Maybe I could rub your back?"

I giggle at his attempt at bribery, knowing that my back isn't exactly what I want him to rub.

"Well, I will never break up with you," I reassure him. "But I would love to get in the hot tub with you, Edward."

His smile is bright and beautiful and I fight off the urge to cross the distance between us and throw myself at him – which I totally could do – because he makes me feel like he wants me just as much as I want him. And I want him all the time.

"Really?" he asks, sounding surprised.

I know I probably shouldn't, but I can't control the urge I have to play with him just a little more.

"Yeah, of course," I say. "I'll just need to run home and get my bathing suit."

His whole face falls at my words and I hear his sharp intake of breath.

"What, wait, no…" he tumbles over his words. His voice is soft and needy. "Couldn't you use your…panties?"

And once again, I love my boyfriend – my more than perfect and so sexy boyfriend – so much that my heart flutters and seriously, my girl parts are hotter and wetter than the water. How does he do that? With just a look or a few words? He literally turns me into this complete and total idiot girl that would do _anything_ for him.

Really.

Anything.

It would be sad if it weren't so awesome that he was mine.

"Well, I could..." I tell him as seductively as I can be. Even though I'm pretty sure it's more needy than seductive. But then I think that it's pretty fucking sexy when he's needy (like right now) and maybe he _does_ think it's seductive after all. "But I don't really think that would be appropriate."

"Of course, Bella. I'm sorry for being so forward. I just thought...I mean," he stumbles over his words before looking at me and seeing my smile. I think he knows I'm messing with him, but I'm not completely sure. "It's just that I had this dream. Also, I'm a doctor...you can trust me."

He is smiling and looks so hopeful and unsure all at the same time. You know…like there is any possible way that I would ever tell him no…to anything. Much less steamy sex in his hot tub. I almost snort at the very idea of that.

"Well, I suppose I could go in...naked." I tell him and his eyes widen. "Would that be alright?"

He gulps loudly and I can see the way his eyes darken.

"That would be, um, perfect," he says softly. "Can I get in, too?"

_Fuck, yes._

"Of course...but I mean, I should probably tell you that I can't swim," I admit coyly. "It looks pretty deep."

I lick my lips and taste red wine that still lingers there. I wonder what it tastes like on his lips…his tongue. I begin to untie my dress in the front. It's the same dress that I wore on my last night in New Hampshire with him and I wonder if he remembers undressing me.

"I'm a certified lifeguard and SCUBA trained," he assures me like only he would. He also loosens his tie, taking it off before throwing it to the side. And then I stop breathing as he begins to unbutton his shirt. "I'm sure I could take care of you."

This makes me fall a little more in love with him because I know that Edward will always take care of me. Not in the financial sense – even though that's also true but unimportant – but more in the sense that I will always feel cared for and loved and wanted more than anything…or anyone else. And because of that, one day I'm going to marry him. And maybe even take his name. I mean really…I can hyphenate it. And fuck a feminist that tells me that I shouldn't.

"Could you give me mouth to mouth?"

I slip the dress from my shoulders and I am standing before him in nothing but my bra and panties. And yeah…they're the set that Tweet sold me. And the way he is looking at me makes me want to go back there and let him pick out some more little, lacy things to wear. For Edward, of course.

"My instructor gave me a perfect score. She said I had excellent technique."

_She?_

Poor woman. She felt Edward's mouth on hers and now she's probably ruined for life because no man's mouth will ever be as perfect as his. I almost feel sorry for her, but the idea of another woman feeling his lips might be pissing me off. Not that much, though. I know he never looked at her the way he's looking at me right now.

"I'll bet she did," I tell him as I close the distance between us. "Did she do this?"

I reach up and grab his hair, pulling him to me and kissing him deeply. His tongue is in my mouth and fuck me…French kissing Edward is the best thing ever.

"No, that would have been inappropriate," he tells me as he pulls back to look at me. "And not conducive to effective airway clearing. But if you tilt your head back like this," he says, grabbing my hair now and tugging, "then you can get better access."

He's kissing and sucking my neck and I'm moaning so loud that I wonder if his neighbors can hear me. But then I remember that Edward's tongue is on my neck while he licks and sucks me and I realize that I don't give a fuck.

"Edward. I wanna get in the hot tub with you and do whatever you want me to do," I tell him, remembering what it is that he really wants. "You know...for your birthday. What do _you_ want for your birthday?"

We are both panting from the kissing and I reach down and begin to unbuckle his belt.

"I would very much like you to strip down, slide into the tub...and then..." he groans as the back of my hand brushes across the fabric-covered underside of his cock.

"And then what?" I ask him breathlessly, pushing his pants down.

"Then I want you to ride me, Bella."

I gasp, clearly because I have no words and he – my Edward – has rendered me speechless.

"Can you do that for me, b-baby?"

_Anything._

"I can do anything you want, Edward," I tell him, looking into his eyes so that he can see the honesty of my words. "It's your birthday. I'm...this is your present."

"Yes," he rasps, kissing me again. "I've been thinking about unwrapping you all night."

Edward fumbles with my bra a bit before getting the clasp in the back open, but I don't mind because his tongue is pressing against mine the whole time. He throws the bra to the side and all I can think about is that it looks so wonderful on the floor with his pants. Well, that's not entirely true. I'm also thinking about how good it feels as he cups my breasts in his hands.

I want to be proactive and take off my panties, but he did say that he wanted to strip me down and it _is_ his birthday. It's like he's reading my clouded mind because he reaches down, pulling the lace at the sides and slides them down my legs. After I've kicked them off completely, he kisses me once more before leading me into the hot water.

It stings just a bit as I step in, but feels really, fucking good right away. He sits down and pulls me into his lap. My knees are on either side of him and I can feel him hard and pressing up against me. Fuck, if I moved an inch over, he would slip inside.

And I _so_ want to feel him inside.

He's staring at my breasts and his hands are on my ass. I'm about to tell him how much I love him when he takes my breast into his mouth and begins to suck. And I can't form coherent words once that happens. I _can_ moan and cry out, though. And that's exactly what I do. I think I even manage to say his name when he swirls his tongue around my nipple.

My entire body is flushed from the heat and I can see the deep pink of Edward's cheeks, the light sheen of sweat on his skin. I run my fingers through his hair and he clutches my flesh in his hands tighter. I kiss his neck, licking his salty skin before whispering in his ear, "I think you said something about wanting me to ride you."

"Fuck," he moans against my breast.

"Happy birthday, baby," I whisper as I shift the inch over and push myself down onto his cock and, "Fuck me," I cry out because, Jesus…I will never get used to the way he feels inside me. It's only intensified by the heat and I can hear his labored breathing as he continues to lick and suck my breasts. I begin to push up and down as he holds me tighter. His words are muffled by my skin, but I'm pretty sure I hear the words "fuck" and "love" a lot.

"Is this what you had in mind?" I pant as I continue. "Is this what you wanted when you said you wanted me to ride you in your hot tub?"

"Yes, but the reality is infinitely better."

My legs are burning – and not from the water. Honestly, if you would have asked me if I thought I was remotely in shape before, I would have told you yes. But sex with Edward has definitely changed my perspective on that. I think that I am the one that needs stamina training.

"So, so good," I cry and he reaches one hand in between us and begins to rub tight circles on my clit. "Oh, my god!"

"Are you coming?" he asks. "Please, Bella…please, come."

And at the sound of his voice – well, not just the sound of his voice - I mean he's inside me and he's rubbing my clit and kissing my breasts, but all of it combines with the steam and this perfect night…and I come so hard, I'm pretty sure I see stars. I hope I'm not having a heat stroke. I don't have time to focus on that, though, because as soon as I come, he cries out my name and he comes, too.

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**EPOV**

**Monday**

I wake up with a grin and huge erection. Before I even open my eyes, I think about my twenty-fifth birthday. Well, the day wasn't so great. But the night was fan-fucking-tastic. Yes, that_ is_ acceptable slang.

I mean sex with my Bella is always amazing, but in my new hot tub - it was mind blowing. My mind goes immediately to the images of last night: the steam swirling in the night air, the perspiration glistening on her chest, her naked body in the moonlight. I licked that sweat right off of her cleavage. And maybe a little off of her pert breasts. She had liked that, judging by the way she gripped my hair and tugged me closer. And that was just the foreplay.

We were seriously lucky that we didn't dehydrate with all of the fluids we lost - I made sure we replaced our electrolytes as soon as possible. Bella wanted to drink more wine, but I convinced her that the sports drink was necessary (I said it would replenish us). She was quite receptive after that information. Of course I had to prove that I had increased stamina after that.

Um, I really enjoyed that part.

My present was more amazing than the rare copy of the Hippocrates manuscript that Nana Cullen bought me for my tenth birthday. I had tears of joy that day.

I might have cried a little in ecstasy last night.

Bella's leg, which is hooked across my hips, rubs against my cock - bringing me back to the present. And my present - Bella. She sighs "Edward" as she snuggles along side me. I grip her leg and pull her on top of me, kissing every bit of Bella I can reach. I know the sounds she's making - she wants me. I don't hesitate to take hold of my length; I'm so ready for her. I cup her bottom and she tilts her hips to accept me.

"Yes," I hiss. She finds the perfect rhythm, but I need to see every motion - every pass of her hips, every pant from her lips.

Letting go of her ass for a brief moment, I grab my remote and open my blinds, flooding the room with light. The backdrop of the bay and the sunny blue skies frame her like a work of art. Edible art, I decide as I nibble on her nipples.

"Mmm, yes. So much better," I breathe.

"Enjoying . . . the. . . view?" she gasps as I thrust even deeper.

"Yes, Bella. You're spectacular."

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**Tuesday**

_**"Hey beautiful. I miss you though it's only been 30.25 hours.**_**"**

I can't help texting my girlfriend. I border on pathetic. I lived for 24 years without sex and now it's merely 24 hours before I get lonely. I'm surprised I've made it this far. I only stayed away from her yesterday to allow her to visit with my sister and Rosalie. And she mentioned something about letting her regain her strength (I hope she isn't acquiring a virus).

_**"I miss you, too. So much that I was planning on using the next .75 hours to touch myself while I thought about you." **_

I groan loudly. She's just too . . . everything – perfect, sexy, smart, funny.

"_**Jesus. The visual is not helping my neediness." **_

I don't even mind sharing my imperfections. She doesn't mind that I desire her constantly; she actually likes it. She told me that it makes her, well, _wet _(her words, not mine- I haven't actually checked). I really should confirm that statement. . .maybe I could help with the touching?

"_**I could help you with that, if you desired."**_

Was she reading my mind? Of course that's ridiculous (unless you're Alice who believes she has a mental connection with Jasper).

"_**Really?"**_

I hope she means in person. Phone sex with Bella is incredibly erotic, but it pales next to actual intercourse.

"_**But you're all the way over there. And I'm all the way over here."**_

Bella, you have to know I'd charter a private plane to get to you.

"_**I have a car. It's fast."**_

I may even speed. My record is clean. Online traffic school wouldn't be that bad.

"_**I know. I have fond memories in your fast car."**_

I really enjoy when she uses my cock as a stick shift. That's now my favorite game since Rosalie and Emmett ruined Trivial Pursuit.

"_**All my fond memories are of you."**_

By "fond" I actually mean insanely hot.

"_***sigh* What are you doing? Why aren't you here?" **_

I almost jump up in excitement. If I could, I'd spend every moment with my Bella. I just fear that she will tire of me.

"_**I'm grabbing my keys. I'm assuming your text is a de facto invitation."**_

I am in my car before the next text comes through.

"_**You are always invited! And my bed might not be king size or have special numbers, but there's a place in it especially for you."**_

I smile when I think about how excited she was about my new mattress. It was especially for her, so she could adjust the firmness. She said that she liked it hard, but she giggled when she said it – maybe she was kidding. Truthfully, the majority of her time in my bed was spent under or over me, but I still wanted her to have the proper back support.

"_**I'm already in my car, so texting will be terminated. See you in 20 minutes. Love you."**_

"_**Love you, too. Be safe."**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

**Wednesday**

**BPOV**

"Fuck my life, Bella," Rosalie states as I shut the door after Edward leaves.

"Why?" I ask, wondering what's wrong. Emmett was here last night (sleeping on the couch again, of course) and she seemed pretty happy when he was here. "What's wrong?"

"I'm dying, Bella...seriously, I'm dying," she says dramatically. "Slowly. One fucking day at a time."

"Why are you dying, Rose?" I ask. "Is it because you're still abstaining?"

I grin because I think it's funny. I mean, Rose is pretty much the most sexual woman I know and the thought of her withholding from physical release is pretty comical. My grin gets bigger because as I think about that, it occurs to me that that's no longer the truth. Now, that Edward is in my life - and here - I am officially a sex goddess. Not in the Aphrodite sense, but more in the way that yeah, we have sex all the fucking time.

"No, bitch," she says sarcastically. "It's because I'm really torn up about the fact that the Jersey Shore kids are in Miami now."

"There's no need to be a bitch, Rose," I smirk. "And who are the Jersey Shore kids?"

"Fuck!" she exclaims. "You're having so much sex that you don't even know who 'The Situation' is."

"Seriously," I tell her. "I feel like you're speaking a different language right now."

She laughs at me and then punches one of the pillows that Emmett left on the couch. And then, she screams into it.

"Listen, whore," she says chuckling.

"Hey, don't call me a whore!"

"You just called me a bitch."

"I know, but _that_ was in love," I tease.

"Well, 'whore' was in love, too," she pouts. "I promise."

"Fuck you."

"Please...fuck me," she sighs. "I am not ashamed to admit that I am not above any action right now."

I sit down on the couch beside her and nudge her with my shoulder, smiling.

"I love you, but I'm gonna have to pass."

She chuckles as she pushes me back.

"I'd be really fucking good."

"I'm sure you would," I tell her. "But still...no."

"I just need someone to pound the fucking shit out of me, Bella."

"Well, then," I grin. "I am definitely not the right person for that job. I have nothing to pound you with."

We both start laughing and I'm happy that she seems to be in a better mood. I know that the withholding has been hard on her, but I also know that she was the one that made the decision to do this with Emmett. And I respect her so much for actually making the effort to have a relationship that is based on more than just sex.

"You know what?" she says, pulling me from my thoughts.

"What?"

"I think I just need to pound something."

"Okay?" I ask, unsure of where she's going with this.

"Do you wanna go to the gym with me this afternoon?"

"Well, my heart did almost explode the other night..."

She glares at me and I'm completely serious when I tell you that the intensity of her eyes makes me nervous.

"Bella, I love you," she starts. "But I swear to god, if you tell me about any of the sex you've been having...I will kill you."

"Okay," I say, holding my hands up in surrender. "But the gym sounds great."

"Good," she says wickedly. "I know exactly where we're going."

"We're not going to my gym?"

"Nope," she says. "We're going to mine."

.

.

.

**.**

.

**EPOV**

I'm taking a nap when Emmett calls.

"Hello," I grunt out.

"Bro, you still asleep? Damn, Bella wore you out, didn't she? You lucky fucker. I had to jerk off in the shower again." I rub my eyes and shake off the sleepy haze as he mutters something about "powerful forearms" and "going blind." I ignore him as these phrases are incongruous.

"She didn't wear me out," I say, "I'm merely adjusting my inner clock to respond to short naps instead of extended periods of sleep to prepare myself for my new rotation."

He groans. "Fuck, you're nerdy sometimes. And I'm the one with the sex blockade. How the fuck did that happen?"

"I am not nerdy, I'm proactive. And you agreed to the sexual hiatus to deepen your bond with Rosalie," I respond, slightly irked by the insult.

He grumbles something like "rhetorical" and "smart ass" and continues our conversation in his "normal" voice – which is about ten decibels above normal. "Hey, Alice's hubs is a fucking freak, huh? I mean, what the fuck with the geodes on my gonads? I guess he's sort of hot if you bypass the hair and stupid sandals. . .he must be hung like a fucking rhino and rocking Alice's wo-" I stop him there because I can't bear to hear any more.

Especially if it involves my baby sister and a large penis. "Emmett, please. Just. . . don't."

"Like you weren't thinking the same thing," he scoffs.

"No, Emmett. I can honestly say that I have never, ever thought of my little sister in that regard. And furthermore, I try not to think about 'him.'"

"Anyway," I can almost picture his eyes rolling at me as he speaks, "I called to see if you wanted to go to the gym with me. I need to pound something. Hard. You said you wanted to check out my new gym, right?"

"Yeah, that sounds good, actually," I admit. My increased sexual activity could only be enhanced by improved physical fitness.

"I'll pick you up in an hour. Just try to keep your shirt on, so I don't have to call 911 for all the chicks that fall off the equipment."

"That only happened once. I still assert that she had poor balance," I protest.

"Whatever. I know I'd be proud if a woman fell off the treadmill while looking at my goods. For sure it would happen if she got a look at my cock."

"Emmett, if you are going to pull out your cock, I'm not going with you." Really, this sex withdrawal may be affecting his brain. Maybe that's why the shouting and mumbling has gotten worse. I should do some research on sexual deprivation.

"Dick, I wouldn't pull out my cock," he scoffs like I'm supposed to read his mind. He mumbles, "Just because you're wannabe 'Team Abs.'" I don't know what he's talking about, and I decide it would be useless to speculate. "_Someone_ should see it, is all I'm saying. My unit has lost his will to live. I had to talk him down numerous times," Emmett explains, like it's completely normal for a penis to contemplate such things.

I don't answer. I can't come up with an appropriate response. I merely acquiesce to his request (not the one about his cock) and agree to be ready in an hour.

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.

.

Emmett's gym is state-of-the-art and immaculate - exactly the way I like things. I end up with an executive membership upgrade - the lady at the desk was very kind and gave me the upgrade for free. Emmett rolled his eyes, called me "fucking pretty boy" and left for the weight benches.

I go through my routine that Emmett created for me, paying special attention to my quads. I feel my face color when I think about the reason - extra thrusting power.

I'm near the end of my workout, and I join Emmett for the weight training.

"Rose and Bella are here," he announces in an unhappy voice. My head whips around looking for my Bella.

"Where?"

"She's trying to kill me, Edward. You should see what she's wearing. . .she could probably get arrested," he groans.

I begin to protest, but I know that I've thought about Bella trying to kill me, so I refrain from comment.

"She has been parading around the gym and bending over and shit. Fuck, Edward. . .I'm not a machine. . .I can't turn my dick off."

I try not to look at his crotch. That could be unpleasant. "Try not to think about it, Emmett," I offer, knowing that it's useless advice.

"Oh, fuck. Here they come," he whines. My head snaps to capture Bella's walk to the treadmill. I start toward her, but she give me a look that tells me to stay where I am. I want to go to her, but she has something in mind. I watch her get on the treadmill. She's staring at me and her expression is making me aroused. I think she's. . .

"Dude, Bella is totally eyefucking you," Emmett says as he spots my reps on the incline bench. I'm glad he is, because I'm barely paying attention.

Ah, there is a name for that look. Bella motions for me to remove my shirt, and then she arches her back, giving me a glimpse of skin. I yank off my shirt, tossing it aside. If Bella wants to tease me, I can tease back. She pretends to fall off the treadmill when she sees my naked torso, which causes me to grin uncontrollably. This is so much better than the last time I was shirtless in the gym. Bella then grabs her water bottle and slowly drinks from it, letting the water drip down her neck to her chest . . .

Holy shit. You would think we were filming one of Emmett's favorite movies. We were just missing the pizza delivery guy. And sex. But that will occur in the very near future (between Bella and me - I hope that's clear).

I am distracted from Bella's wet breasts by a cry from Emmett. "What the fu-uck?" Emmett sounds like he's near tears. I look over at Rosalie, who is leaning back on a giant ball. Ironically, it's blue, which makes me want to laugh (Emmett might punch me if I mention it). She's stretched out completely and thrusting her hips up in the air. She's probably just trying to strengthen her thighs, but I can understand that this would cause Emmett a great deal of distress.

He's mumbling incoherently about "treadmills" and "giant balls" and "sexbargo." He looks desperate.

I watch him carefully, like an experiment in my lab. I have no hypothesis for what happens next.

I really hope he doesn't pull out his cock.

He doesn't, thankfully.

Instead, he strides purposefully toward Rose, who looks annoyed at first. But when he reaches out to grab her off of the big ball, I swear I saw her jump in his arms. They are both grinning as he carries her out of the gym.

"Can I stay over at your place, tonight?" Bella asks. "I think the sexbargo is over."

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**End Notes:**

Thank you for reviewing and favoriting LiMB. We love every one...even more than Rob. *marvar laughs hysterically*

No, seriously, we love the reviews. Leave us one.

So, we posted an outtake last week when FF was fail. Sorry if you didn't get an alert. It's called LiMBO, Love in My Box Outtakes. Please check it out. It's listed on our Author's Page. (It's the phone call between E/B after the outing to Hooters.)

We wanna recc' Giofógach by ltlerthqak. This story is all kinds of awesome and different from anything we've read. It takes place against the backdrop of a traveling carnival. Bella is a gypsy with a special gift and Edward is her soulmate. Please check it out and leave some review love. We both really adore this fic!

Follow us on twitter: cosmogirl7481 and marvar29


	24. Re: Movin' On Up

Chapter 23

Re: Movin' On Up

BPOV

"Fuck, that feels good," I moan, as Edward massages the muscles in my leg. "Oh, god…oh, oh…right there."

We are on his couch after I went to the gym. I should probably clarify that I went to my gym because as much fun as it was to pretend to exercise while I flirted with my boyfriend, I didn't actually work out. And after the events of his birthday, I realized that I _really_ needed to work out. But in my attempt to get into shape, I pulled a muscle on the treadmill.

"Right there?" he asks, as he presses a little harder.

I open my eyes and look at him and his face is a combination of worry, desire and the slightest hint of arrogance. 'Cause yeah…he is a surgeon and he really knows how to make good use of his hands…and fingers. Fuck me, the fingers. I swear I could look at them all day. I mean, really, have you seen them?

"Yeah…right there."

"You shouldn't be pulling a muscle doing something as simple as jogging, Bella," he tells me, his voice soft and concerned. "Were you pushing yourself too hard?"

"Pushing myself harder was sort of the point," I tell him, blushing slightly. "I need to be in better shape to keep up with my perfect boyfriend. Who, by the way, on top of being gorgeous and brilliant, also happens to be athletic."

I look at his face as he absorbs my compliments. Even though, he really is all of those things, I still think he doesn't expect me to think them, much less say them. The corners or his mouth turn up in this really cute grin that only makes me want to kiss his mouth and you know...maybe lick his lips. I grin back at him so I know that he knows I meant every single word.

"You really think I'm gorgeous?" he asks, leaning forward a bit.

"Yeah," I tell him. "Gorgeous."

His green eyes sparkle at my words and he moves his hands up a little higher, placing them on my thigh and squeezes softly. _Fuck_, his fingers should be insured. I mean, he is a surgeon after all. And if J-Lo can insure her ass, Edward could definitely insure his fingers. He will be helping people – improving the quality of human life. I shouldn't be so harsh on J-Lo and I chastise myself internally. Somewhere, there's someone whose life was made better because of her ass. Probably Emmett.

"And athletic?" he asks, pulling me from my ridiculous train of thought. Not that there's anything ridiculous about his fingers. There isn't.

"Yeah…athletic," I murmur. "You're like David Beckham."

"Really?" he squeezes my thigh a little tighter.

"Yeah," I say. "Well, except you're smarter and much better looking and well, you're not British."

"So," he says, inching his fingers higher. _Jesus, the fingers_. "What you're saying is, the only way I'm like David Beckham is because I play soccer?"

He smirks at me and I giggle.

"Well, there is that," I say. "And he also lives in California now…and he has a penis. Though, if I'm being honest, I'd say that you are _definitely_ more, um, enhanced than him in that area."

I wink at him and possibly clench between my legs because the aforementioned fingers are getting maddeningly close to the place I really want them to be.

"Should I be concerned that you seem to know a lot about David Beckham?" he asks playfully, but I can tell he's the slightest bit jealous. "Umm…especially his er…penis?"

I just want to hug him at his words, but I know if I do that, he will move his hand and well, that's just not going to happen. Not right now, anyway. I smile at him instead.

"I know nothing about his penis," I tell him, softly. "Except that as a man, anatomy would tell me that he has one. Besides, there is only one penis I care about."

_One penis and ten perfect fingers_.

"My point is," I continue. "You are far superior to every man, Edward. Including David Beckham."

He gives me his heartbreakingly beautiful smile. The one that makes my stomach flip and my heart flutter. And yeah…his fingers are working my upper thigh again. I almost moan because it feels so good.

"Superior, huh?" he asks.

"Superior," I agree. "Like Superman. And just so we're clear, baby…you're way hotter than him, too."

He grins at me, leaning in even closer. I can feel his breath on my face and I'm about to kiss him when he speaks.

"Well, you're definitely hotter than Lois Lane," he tells me, his voice is low and sweet. "And, of course, that Spice Girl."

I giggle and pretend to huff.

"I hope so. She needs to eat a sandwich." I say. "And how do you know who the Spice Girls are?"

He blushes and looks embarrassed.

"I grew up in a house with Alice, Bella," he offers. "She went through a Baby Spice phase."

I kiss him gently on the lips, wiggling myself closer to him…and his fingers.

"How is your leg?" he murmurs against my mouth.

His breath is sweet like peppermint candy.

"So much better," I assure him. "You have magic fingers."

I can't help the smile that's on my face.

"You know what else is good for muscle strain?" he asks.

"Nothing's better than your fingers."

"No?" he says, chuckling. "Not even my fingers _and_ the hot tub?"

_Fuck, he has a point. That would be better._

"That," _kiss, _"sounds," _kiss_, "wonderful." _Kiss and kiss._

We are just getting ready to get up, get naked and get in the hot tub, when Edward's phone buzzes with a text message from Alice. Technically, it's a text message from Alice and Jasper.

"Hey, big brother! Moving day is in two days! I am really excited that you and Bella are going to help! I was hoping that you would also enlist Emmett. I keep trying to call Rose, but she's not answering. Mom and Dad are coming, too! Thanks so much! Your new neighbors, Jazz and Alice."

.

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EPOV

So I don't hear from Emmett for two days. It didn't take a genius to know what he was doing, although I do possess the necessary IQ. I texted him several times, but his only response was a happy face. I think it had an open mouth, but I don't know the connotation of that. Knowing Emmett, it is probably perverse.

"Edward, how are you this fine morning?" he says when he finally answers my call. It must be Emmett, because I called his phone, but his greeting lacks his usual muttering and/or shouting.

"You sound rather chipper, Emmett. What's new?" I hope he knows that's a nicety and not a request for specifics.

"My fucking outlook on life is new, bro. I'm a changed man." Well, the profanity hasn't changed. I guess I shouldn't be so judgmental. I have been known to utter a "fuck" here or there. Especially when Bella is. . .

"Edward, did you hear me? I asked what you wanted." In the background I hear "right there, baby" and I begin to suspect he isn't alone. "I'm sorta busy right now," he grunts out and I hear a muffled giggle that sounds like Rosalie. Oh dear god. Please don't tell me he's mid-coitus.

"Um, Alice wanted me to ask you if you could help her move tomorrow. She says she wants us to bond with Jasper. The girls are going to help, and my parents, too." I hear a muffled moan and a thump. "You can call me back later, Emmett," I add hastily.

"Umm, yesss, I mean, uh, yeah, I'll call you later," he blurts out.

Ugh. I feel dirty. Where is my hand sanitizer?

Not wanting a repeat performance, I text Emmett the details of the move. I may never call him again. I'm torn because texting isn't my forte, as I have proven during the graduation debacle. I decide to reevaluate after a trial period, using logic instead of emotion as my guide. I'll save that for Bella.

.

.

Bella and I get ready for moving day together at my place. I decide on jeans and a t-shirt – I have on a loose, faded pair, and she's wearing tiny shorts. Those are probably to torture me. To make her feel at home, I purchased toiletries for her - including my, I mean her, favorite lotion. Definitely needed the lotion. She got a little teary when I showed her everything I had done. She was especially appreciative when I showed her the large, walk-in closet that was for her. Now, I want to buy her a house. But the "appreciation" might kill me.

We are eating breakfast together when Emmett and Rosalie arrive. I hesitate to open the door because I dislike public nudity. Thankfully, they are only joined at the hands and not any other less chaste appendage. This makes exchanging greetings easier.

"Morning, bro. Alice fucking owes me for this shit," he grumbles. "I was planning on sleeping in." He grins and grabs Rosalie's ass. Charming. Rose looks less than refreshed this morning, groaning when she removes her sunglasses.

"Wow, Rose...were you doing Mind Erasers last night?" she giggles. "You look a little rough."

"Fuck off, Bella," Rose groans. "I was doing _something_, but it wasn't a Mind Eraser. Oh, and I might have had a bottle of wine."

"Rosie was keeping herself busy while I fixed some things in your apartment. Your table doesn't support much weight."

Bella and I don't ask how he knows that, but we have an idea. I make a note to never touch her table.

They join us for breakfast after Emmett declares he's only eaten one thing for the last few days and now he's starving. Bella starts laughing and Rosalie elbows him. I guess Rosalie isn't much of a cook. She doesn't look too offended by the comment when she gazes lovingly at him. He grasps her hand and kisses it. Well, I think he sucks her finger, but I look away.

I debate whether I like Emmett better when he's on a sexbargo. At least I wasn't exposed to gratuitous groping and a porn soundtrack whenever I talked to him.

"So, why the fuck are we moving their crap? Aren't you trust fund babies loaded and shit?" Emmett booms as he shovels a waffle in his mouth. And we are back to the yelling.

"Alice wants us 'to bond' with Jasper. Apparently menial labor is the best way to experience this," I reply. "And we are not 'trust-fund babies.' We both have an inheritance from Grandpa Cullen. It's quite different from a trust-fund in the way the money-"

Emmett interrupts me, "So you _are_ loaded, though, right?" Bella and Rosalie both stop their conversation to listen to ours.

"I have sufficient funds," I mutter.

"And you are like a fucking stock-market genius, right? I know you made me a fortune. Fuck, _I_ should have hired some movers," Emmett whines. "I'm sore. All that fucking-"

"Emmett!" I interrupt because I really don't want to hear that story. "That's not for polite company."

"Dude, I was going to tell you about all the fucking repair work I had to do at the girls' place. Fuck, I have _some_ class," Emmett retorts. "I was just going to say I'm hurting from all the banging-"

"I'm pretty sure that I'm the one that's hurting from all the banging, baby," Rosaile says to Emmett and then winks at me. "I, on the other hand, have very little class this early in the morning."

I choke on my waffle. I don't know if it's from the "banging" or the winking.

We finish our food (without further pornographic content) and wait for Alice and Jasper to arrive with their moving van. When Alice texts me to alert us of their arrival, we head downstairs.

"Seriously, Edward, if Jasper kills a chicken or some shit to cleanse the fucking place, I'm outta there. He's fucking weird," Emmett declares in the elevator.

Bella and Rose snort and giggle. I have no response. Jasper_ is_ fucking weird, but he's my family. Well, he's married to my family.

Let's be clear that I share no genetic material with him at all.

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.

Alice is a blur when we get downstairs. She's climbing into the truck, pointing and waving and yelling. Honestly, she's more like Emmett's sister than mine. I don't yell, and I rarely wave. Jasper is kneeling on the sidewalk and mumbling something. I don't ask what he's doing. I doubt if the answer would sound reasonable. Emmett rolls his eyes and makes a gesture like he's wringing a chicken's neck. I stifle my laugh. Rosalie doesn't, but manages to disguise it with a cough.

Just then, Alice barks out orders and we start moving the boxes upstairs. The girls are going to unpack while we carry boxes. Thankfully, there aren't too many large items. I mean, I'm physically capable, but I don't want to injure myself or get too tired. How would I have sex with Bella? Or work?

We carry our first load to the elevator. The mood is awkward, but Emmett breaks the silence.

"Um, nice dashiki, Jasper," Emmett offers. "Perfect for moving." Emmett tries to control his snort and it sounds like he's wounded. At least he's trying. I have yet to say anything.

"Oh, thank you, Emmett. But it's actually an Apache shaman's robe. I thought it was appropriate for the occasion. I wore a more formal one to our wedding. We don't have pictures, but I have a lovely dream catcher that was painted with natural dyes to represent the ceremony."

I think about how that will look next to my wedding photo with Bella on my mother's mantle.

Now I really have nothing to say.

.

.

My mother and father are waiting for us at Alice's. My mother stays upstairs to help with the unpacking, and dad joins in the fun. Or torture. Both words apply.

We carry up countless boxes. Well, I start counting, but I realize that it is pointless. My dad and Emmett carry on the conversation because I am not very talkative around Jasper. My dad gives me a look that I assume conveys some hidden meaning. I look at him, bewildered, and he sighs.

"Edward, why don't you ask Jasper about his job? He has some interesting stories about Berkeley," my dad insists. That's right. He's a professor. I begin to question the accreditation of Bella's alma mater, but realize that's not the best talking point right now.

"Um, yeah, Jasper. What's it like being a professor?" I manage to squeeze out a question. Emmett rolls his eyes at me, and I think my father does, too. _What, is that not good enough?_

Jasper smiles politely and launches into a tale about his tour of Tibet with a llama or something to that effect. I'm not actually listening. I'm thinking about Bella and possibly getting into the hot tub to relax these sore muscles.

Alice has a lot of boxes.

Finally, we have nothing left but the furniture. We handle the chest that Nana Cullen gave Alice for her eighteenth birthday fairly easily. Alice nearly injures Emmett trying to shove him off after he sits on it to drink his water.

"Damn, Alice. For being tiny you have freakish strength," he whines as he rubs his arm.

"It's the yoga, Em," She replies while wiping down the chest with an anti-bacterial cloth. Well, she is my sister.

"Yes, yoga is fantastic for strengthening your core and increasing flexibility," Jasper adds. "You should see how far she can-"

"Ok, I don't want to hear about my sister's core. Let's go get the armoire so we can finish this," I insist. "I have plans for this evening," I say as I grin at Bella. She beams at me in return. I almost run out the door.

.

.

"Holy fuck, is this heavy," Emmett groans. "If I pull my groin carrying this shit, I'm going to be so pissed."

Me, too. That would destroy most of my plans.

"It's Alice's favorite. It took five guys to get it into my house," Jasper says. "It's made of reclaimed wood from the Brazilian Rainforest."

"It feels like it's made from the whole fucking forest," Emmett complains.

The four of us maneuver the huge armoire down the truck ramp and into the building.

We grunt and groan our way to the elevator, but it's so large we don't all fit. Emmett and I run up the stairs to help them unload it from the elevator.

"Fuck, Jasper. Do have a magic rock or something that will make me stronger or this thing lighter? Wave that shit over me. And Edward or Carlisle, one of you is going to have to check my crotch for a hernia. I can feel something protruding in my briefs, and it's not my cock."

And, Emmett has officially lost his mind. Maybe a box hit him in the head. . .

My dad laughs; he's seriously nearly hysterical. We all join in, because we are exhausted and Emmett is ridiculous.

We are a sweaty mess by the time we inch our way through the door. My muscles are crying from the exertion. I can feel the lactic acid burning. Even with the air conditioning, we are dripping with perspiration. We look around for towels, but there aren't any. Of course not.

"Fuck it," Emmett declares as he whips off his shirt and uses it to dry the perspiration on his face and chest.

We all shrug and follow suit. Well, technically Jasper removes his multi-cultural ceremonial robe, but the result is the same. I'm wiping myself down when Bella walks in with a glass of lemonade and stops. The face she makes lets me know that she likes what she sees.

.

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BPOV

"Good morning, girls!" Alice exclaims excitedly, as if she's had twenty cups of coffee. Speaking of which, I could really use some more coffee right now. "Thank you all _so much_ for coming to help us with this."

"Fuck, Alice," Rose snaps, and I wonder how well she's gonna manage today with her hangover. "You're at a ten. I need you to be at a two."

Yeah, Rosalie Hale is hungover. And not just a little bit. I would laugh, except that I'm gonna have to work with her all day. And Rose working, or doing anything while she's hungover, is not funny.

_Well, maybe it's a little funny._

"You know, dear," Esme, says a little too softly. I look at her and realize that Rose might not be the only one that imbibed too much last night. I stifle a giggle. "You can hire people to do this…unpacking and moving. Your father and I would have been more than happy to pay for it."

"Mother," Alice whines loudly and I can't stop the laugh that escapes my lips as Esme and Rose both wince at the high-pitch of her voice. "Jazz and I really wanted to do this on our own. It's important to us. This is our first real home together."

"First of all," Rose says, pushing her sunglasses up on her head. "Not hiring someone is ridiculous. Especially when you have two perfectly loaded parents who are willing to foot the bill. Secondly, you're not 'doing it on your own.' You are not unpacking boxes by yourself, and Jazz," she says sarcastically, holding out her palms like 'jazz hands,' "is not lugging up the giant armoire I saw downstairs by himself either."

"My guess is that Emmett will be lugging the armoire," I giggle. "Well, maybe Emmett and Jazz."

"Please," she huffs. "Professor Whitlock is going to be altogether too busy carrying up crystals and the trunks of caftans he must have."

Alice laughs as she opens a box.

"Come on now, Rose," she says sweetly as she winks at me. Her eyes are sparkling and I don't know that I've ever seen her this happy. And she's a _really_ happy person, generally. Edward needs to see her like this when he wonders why she's married to Jasper. "The caftans are really heavy…especially when he combines them with the weight of his dick."

Rose snorts, I blush, and Esme, well, Esme looks slightly mortified. Though I could be mistaking that for her hangover. Honestly, it's probably both.

"Mary Alice Cullen!" Esme exclaims. "That is not the kind of talk we have this early in the morning."

"You're right mother, I forgot," Alice giggles. "I should just whip up a batch of mimosas and I can talk about dick and you can talk about Dad's ass…and what he likes you to do it. And it's not Cullen anymore, it's Whitlock."

Rosalie cackles and I want to die. You would think that I'd be used to this by now, but I don't think that I will ever be used to it. I am busy wondering how to effectively change the subject when I hear Esme speak.

"You have the ingredients for mimosas?"

And now Rosalie is laughing harder.

.

.

We are almost done with all of the boxes in the afternoon and I'm pretty sure that there are just a couple more things for the guys to carry up.

"Maybe we should make some lemonade for the guys so they can cool off," Alice suggests.

"Lemonade?" Rosalie asks. "We have water and central air. What more do they need?"

"Jasper loves lemonade," Alice says and she sighs dreamily.

"So, really, Alice," Rose says. "You've gotta tell me, 'cause I really want to know. What is the draw to Jasper Whitlock?"

Esme and I both perk up at this question and listen to what she has to say.

"You mean you can't tell just by looking at him?" she asks, in all seriousness. "He's just...he's so...he's perfect."

"Yeah," Rosalie says. "You're gonna have to give us a little more than that."

"Well, he's gorgeous, of course, but that isn't nearly the best part," she says. "He's also really sweet and so wonderful. Do you know that he told me that I could do or be anything that I wanted to be? And do you know that he supports everything that I do...every decision that I make? And let me tell you something, he's the best sex I've ever had! Like ever. Like so much better than anyone else."

"Jesus, Alice! How many men have you been with?" Esme exclaims. "No, wait...I don't want to know."

"Don't worry, Mom. None of them were freaks like Dad."

I quickly walk into the kitchen to make lemonade so that I don't have to be subjected to anymore sex talk...from anyone. The rest of them join me and before we know it, we're all set and ready for the guys. I hear them in the front and I grab a glass for Edward. I wonder if he'll drink it all down and maybe a little will trickle down his chin so that I can...

_Holy fuck._

There's a lot of fucking skin in the living room right now, but I can only see one man. And he's all sweaty and wet and wiping himself down with his t-shirt...and Jesus. You would think that I've never seen him naked before. He smiles at me and I smile at him and I'm pretty sure that we're having a whole conversation with just our eyes. And it's a really, really dirty conversation.

"Well, that explains it," Rose says decisively behind me. "Holy motherfucking abs."

"I'll say," Esme agrees with whatever it is she's talking about.

I'm still grinning at Edward when I hear Rose say, "What? You have nothing to say about Jasper?"

"Why would I have anything to say about Jasper?"

"Umm...you might want to pull yourself away from Dr. Feelgood for just one second and look at Professor Whitlock."

I begrudgingly do as she says because really, why would I ever want to look at any anyone except Edward?

But, Jesus…umm, yeah...Alice is a very lucky woman.

Though, still not as lucky as me.

.

.

I walk over to Edward and I kind of want to wrap my arms around him and maybe lick his chest, but that wouldn't be appropriate in front of everyone else. And I really _can_ control myself (most of the time). Instead, I hook my finger through one of the loops on his jeans and pull him closer to me. He leans forward and presses a soft, chaste kiss on my lips. My eyes close and I smile, but when I open them, the look in his eyes tells me that he is feeling anything but chaste.

"Are we done with moving yet?" I whisper. "I think you might need a shower."

"Yeah, I'm feeling quite dirty," he whispers back while stroking the skin on my lower back.

"Hey Jasper, can you put your fucking poncho back on? I can see your happy trail and it's making me depressed," Emmett complains.

"Emmett, clearly Jasper – I mean you – I mean, all of you are hot. No one needs to put anything back on," Rose says and I giggle.

"Thank you for noticing. I did gain some muscle definition while I was building that orphanage in Tibet. The primitive tools require man power," Jasper explains. Emmett is rolling his eyes, and he looks like he might be flexing his pecs.

"I know something you can do with your primitive tool," Alice says and Edward sputters as he looks around for something else to do.

I notice that Carlisle and Esme are gone and I wonder if they've left. It seems strange that they would leave without saying anything, but Esme was pretty hungover. And it _is_ almost five o' clock. There has to be a bar full of WASPs somewhere waiting for her arrival.

"We just have a couple more boxes to unpack, ladies," Alice says and Rosalie groans.

"Fine," Rose says. "But next week, Bella and I are going to do summer cleaning at our apartment and all you bitches are coming to help."

"We are?" I ask.

"Yeah, we sure the fuck are."

"There's no such thing as summer cleaning," Alice says, smiling. "But I'll come and help. I'm sure that after the last couple days, every surface in your apartment needs to be sterilized."

"Hey, I wiped that shit down. It's not like I blew my lo-"

"I'm going to be on heavy rotations all week," Edward interrupts Emmett just in time.

I realize that I only have a few more days left to have Edward all to myself. And while the thought of that makes me a little sad, it also occurs to me that I get to make the most of those few days.

Yeah.

This is going to be so much fun.

.

.

.

.

EPOV

We needed to get the hell out of here right away. The sexual tension is palpable. Who knew some sweat would excite the ladies in our lives?

With lightning speed I unpack the remaining boxes and grab Bella (I don't actually grab her, just tug on her hand). She's more than willing to leave, considering everyone has disappeared while we were working. I don't even want to know what they are doing - I can speculate, and the visual is not pleasant.

Even our hosts are AWOL, and a brief thought of Alice and "happy trails" makes me shudder. I block that image before I'm scarred for life.

We are down the hallway, kissing and wrapped around each other. . .the anticipation heavy. I'm reaching for the door when Emmett and Rosalie rush out.

"Don't go in there for twenty or thirty minutes. Trust me," Emmett insists with a full grin. Rosalie looks shocked and awed.

"Emmett, what did you do?"

"Dude, I swear we did nothing. We didn't have a chance." Emmett laughs. "But your mom and Daddy C are, um, well. . .you know. Damn, Edward. Your mom looks fucking fantastic. You have some good ass genes."

"Speaking of good asses," Rosalie interjects. "Your father's ass might be better than Jasper's abs."

Oh, dear god. I feel like throwing up. Or crying. Bella hugs me tightly, and I think that keeps me upright.

"I'm going to have to buy a new bed," I complain.

"Nah, bro. You just need to air out your closet."

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A/N

Reviews are almost as good as Edward's fingers...almost.

So, LiMB was nominated for a Glosp Award in the category of 'Story that makes you laugh so hard you'd pee yourself.' Please check it out and vote for your favorite. We hope it's LiMB, but we really love all the other fics in that category, too. You can vote at glospawards dot blogspot dot com.

The LiMB FGB Outtake was delivered this week. If you were on Team LiMB and didn't receive your copy, please send us a PM and we will resend it to you right away.

Recc's:

cosmogirl7481: _America's Sweetheart_s by ciaobella27. Imagine Bella and Edward as Justin and Britney in the late 90's. And yeah...they got caught. It's really well-written and I am consumed with wanting to know what's going to happen next.

marvar: _Tunes with Tony Masen_ by Just4ALE. It's a thriller with a mysterious Edward that features 70s music trivia. Yeah, I'm serious. It's unbelievably good. Fans of the movie _Foul Play_ will definitely enjoy this.

Tweet with us: cosmogirl7481 and marvar29


	25. Re: Hard Day's Night

A/N: So, there's one more chapter and an epi left...

**Chapter 24**

**Re: Hard Day's Night**

**BPOV**

"_**Good luck on your first day.**__** I will be thinking about you and I miss you.**__** My bed will be so lonely without you tonight.**__** Text me when you get this.**__** I love you. –B"**_

I place my phone back in my purse and head into the library. Esme asked if I would help her out by being a tutor for a local literacy organization that she is chairing. She told me that with my background, I would be the perfect person to assist her. To be honest, I think that she just wants to keep me busy since she knows how consumed Edward will be with work. It also helps that together, we both roped Alice and Rose into helping, too.

I notice Rose's car as I'm walking in and I smile to myself that she's already in there.

Giving back to the community.

Making a difference.

She must be dying.

I laugh a little to myself. I love her, but she would be the first person to tell you that she is nothing, if not self-serving and centered.

I've spent the last four days with Edward non-stop. I don't think we ever left his condo for anything. Apparently, anything can be delivered. Emmett even went as far as to tell Edward that you could have condoms delivered. Edward scoffed and said something about being able to buy his own condoms. I smirked at him, knowing full-well we hadn't used condoms since Phoenix. He then informed me that our sex life (he smiled when he referenced his sex life) and the use or non-use of condoms was no one's concern. Especially Emmett.

Anyway, my point is that we made the most of his last four days of freedom. I'm still a little sore. Everyone keeps telling us that it's going to be so hard! And yeah, we know it will be, but we also know that we've been through longer periods of time apart and that those periods only served to solidify our love. Those are Edward's words, but I like them and agree with them completely.

We'll be fine.

.

.

.

Two hours later:

"Fuck, Bella," Rosalie says as she walks over to the table where I am currently putting together book bags filled with child-specific reading material. "Libraries are fucking boring."

"Rose," I whisper, though it sounds like a hiss. "This is a library. And there are children here."

"I know it's a library," she snorts. "I just said… _libraries_ are fucking boring."

I roll my eyes and reach in my purse. I pull out my phone and check to see if I have a message from Edward. I don't. I try not to be disappointed because I know that he is probably ridiculously busy. And I know that he will text as soon as he gets a chance. I send him another one. Just to let him know that I love him. Even if he can't text me, I'm sure he'll appreciate knowing that I'm thinking about him.

"_**So, I guess you're pretty busy.**__** I'm thinking about you, Edward.**__** Text me later, baby.**__** I love you. –B"**_

"So, how much longer do we have to be here?" she asks.

"Well, I told Esme we would be here until lunch," I tell her. "But if you will help me finish these bags, I think we'll be done."

"Perfect," she says sitting down beside me. "What are you doing for the rest of the day? Do you have any plans? I mean, are you planning on going home and eating ice cream and watching _You've Got Mail_ while you wait for your boyfriend to text or call?"

I roll my eyes.

"No, I wasn't planning on doing any of that," I tell her, laughing. "I was actually planning on going home and getting some stuff done. It's been a while since I've been there, and I have laundry and stuff to do."

"Well, good. Because that shit would be lame," she says, laughing. "I was actually going to spend the evening with Emmett…unless you need me around. I mean, I can suck his…"

"Rose," I interrupt her, scowling.

She laughs a little too loudly.

"What I meant was…I can catalogue his cards any day of the week."

"The card catalogue doesn't exist anymore, Rose."

She snorts.

"I'm sorry, Librarian Lucy," she says sweetly. "I can check out his books – _his really big books_ – anytime, if you wanted me to hang with you today."

"No, Rose…but thank you," I say. "I'll be fine. You go ahead with Emmett, but I do have one question."

"What's that?"

"Emmett has more than one really big book?"

.

.

.

Later that afternoon, all my laundry is done, the sheets on the bed I haven't slept in have been changed, the entire apartment has been vacuumed and Tom Hanks is being a dick with the caviar.

"He owns Fox Books!" I yell at Meg Ryan like a crazy person. "Fox! F-O-X!"

I don't feel like a total loser because even though Rose was right about one thing, doesn't mean she was right about everything. I'm not eating ice cream. To punctuate my point, I shove an Oreo in my mouth…and try not to think about how good cookies and cream ice cream actually sounds.

Several hours later, Meg and Tom had kissed in Central Park, Harry had indeed met Sally, and I am emo because I still haven't heard from Edward. And then I feel guilty for being emo. It's his first day of work and he has probably been so busy that he just hasn't had a chance to call or text. I decide to be proactive and instead of moping or eating more chocolate, I'm going to take a shower.

I send him one more text while the water is heating up. It's simple and says everything I want to say to him.

"_**I love and miss you.**__** I hope your day has been wonderful. –B"**_

The shower is relaxing and it really helps to ease the tension I feel from missing Edward. By the time I'm done, I'm mostly happy and even a little tired. I could probably just go on to bed. That way, when I wake up in the morning, I'll know that I'll get to see Edward that night.

I walk into my bedroom and I see the alert light flashing on my phone. I pick it up and see that I have a missed call from Edward…and he left a message. I immediately call my voicemail.

**"**_**Hello, Bella. It's me. Edward. I was hoping to talk to you, but you must be asleep. I just wanted to hear your voice for a bit. Maybe I'll call back and listen to your message again. You sound adorable, by the way. Things are going well here at the hospital. Everyone is very helpful and I'm handling my workload quite easily. And Bella, if I had a bed instead of this definitely non-ergonomic cot, it would be lonely, too. Bye, Bella. I love you."**_

I ignore the tears that spring to my eyes, as I immediately call him back. He doesn't answer, though, so I leave him a message. I try to sound as upbeat as possible. I don't want to dampen his mood.

"_**Hey, sweetie.**__** I'm so sorry I missed your call.**__** I was in the stupid shower."**_ All right, so maybe I'm not as good an actress as I hoped. _**"Anyway, I miss you and I'm so happy that your day is going so well.**__** I'm sorry about the cot.**__** I guess it will just give me an excuse to give you a massage tomorrow night.**__** I love you, Edward.**__** Bye."**_

I hold onto the phone for a minute longer than I have to, before finally crawling into bed…missing him and wishing he were here. I close my eyes and as I fall asleep, his face is the only thing I see.

I'm pretty sure, that was the hundredth time I dreamt of Edward Masen.

Give or take a few.

.

.

.

**EPOV**

**Thursday, July 1, 2010**

I wake up bright and early for my first day of work. Bella wanted to leave last night so I could get some rest, but I stopped her. I know that our time will be limited while I'm still a new resident, so we need to take advantage of every minute.

And I took everything she gave me last night. And some more early this morning.

I'm feeling good.

She makes me a special breakfast and kisses me goodbye. I can't believe how perfect my life is. Last summer I was dating . . .well, you know, and now I have domestic bliss with the most perfect woman. I strive to be worthy of her. I drive to my new job, thinking about how I want forever with her. I know it's too soon, but I'm sure that she wants forever with me, too. I touch my lips with my tongue, tasting the remnants of Bella. That's going to have to be enough to get me throughout the next 36 hours or so.

I've given her the key to my condo (my mother no longer has one thanks to the recent debauchery in my closet) so that she can come and go as she pleases. I ask her to wait for me on Friday night. In my bed.

I can't wait.

.

.

.

At the hospital I'm introduced to the other first year residents. We exchange greetings and listen to our department head, Dr. Aro Volturi, explain our duties. I will be in ER trauma surgery rotation for the next four weeks. Today, I'm in surgical boot camp (which doesn't requires soldier-like activity).

I'm quite good at all my required tasks. I've actually practiced these with my father on numerous occasions (I've shaved many minutes off my time in the past year in preparation). My attending, Dr. Marcus, is impressed with my work. I'm proud that I'm totally prepared for this. The other residents are quick to look to me for guidance. Dr. Mallory asks me to tutor her. I tell her that I will consider it if she proves to be below standard on a consistent basis. She is disappointed, but she follows my every move. She even followed me to the restroom. I assume that she was fatigued and/or lost. I pointed her in the right direction.

I have three texts from Bella when I check my phone. I have an ache when I read them. I'm sure it's from missing her and not my poor digestion of the sub-par sandwich that serves as my dinner. Considering that I only have 15 minutes for break, I'm glad I get to chew. I use the last few minutes to call Bella.

_**"Hello, Bella. It's me. Edward. I was hoping to talk to you, but you must be busy. I just wanted to hear your voice for a bit. Maybe I'll call back and listen to your message again. You sound adorable, by the way. Things are going well here at the hospital. Everyone is very helpful and I'm handling my work load quite easily. And Bella, if I had a bed instead of this definitely non-ergonomic cot, it would be lonely, too. Bye, Bella. I love you."**_

It's a long, hard day, but I consider it a success.

Around midnight, I have a short break for which to sleep. This is the only part that is difficult for me. I trained for the boot camp and erratic schedule, but not the poor accommodations. You would think that the mattresses would have more lumbar support, but alas, no. I wonder what the head of Orthopedics feels about this. One would assume she would be horrified.

I call Bella, but she doesn't answer. I'm disappointed that I can't hear her voice, but there's nothing to be done. I might have time to call her tomorrow. I leave a message that just can't express the many feelings I have for her.

_**"Hello, Bella. I must assume you are asleep. It's, um, Edward, your boyfriend. I'm working, obviously, or I'd be with you. I'm thinking about you constantly, I mean, when I'm not with patients because that would be dangerous. And if I were able to sleep at all on this horrible cot, I'd dream of you.**__** I love you, Bella."**_

I curl up into the tiny cot that was obviously crafted for persons of small stature or a child. Considering I'm well above average, I'm quite uncomfortable. I wonder if I'm allowed to purchase my own cot? I make a note to ask later. As I'm finally dozing off, I'm paged to the ER.

I observe and assist several procedures over the next two days. With the heavy work load, I'm exhausted. I don't get to leave on time because I'm in the middle of stitching up a dissected bowel. By the time I get home, it's after one am. I'm tired, but I know she's waiting for me.

My key is in the lock when she wrenches the door open.

"Edward!" she cries as throws herself at me. I almost collapse with fatigue, but I manage to stay upright. I kiss her soundly on the mouth and beg her to allow me to shower. I'm aroused, but that's not an excuse to avoid personal hygiene. My eyes droop and shut several times while lathering my body (I hope I washed everything), but I fight to keep them open. When I exit the bathroom, she's waiting for me in my bed.

Naked.

Bella.

Did I mention she was naked?

I slip off my towel and clamber into my bed. I groan at feeling of Bella sliding over my thighs and straddling me. Some of the pleasure might be because of my mattress, but I don't mention that.

"Oh, god, Bella," I moan as she starts kissing me. She's rubbing herself against me - grinding, licking - slowly. It's perfect. Then . . .

"Beep, beep, beep." My alarm goes off.

I have to go.

I drag myself from my wonderful, ergonomic mattress, while gazing at my girlfriend who is sound asleep.

Fuck me. Did I…_no!_

I amend my earlier outburst. No one got fucked. I lost all possibilities of sex by falling asleep while Bella was on top of me.

And now I have to be back at the hospital.

I kiss her soft lips before I leave.

.

.

.

**BPOV**

I wake up and roll over to find that Edward has already left for work. And I can't even feel bad that he didn't wake me up, because I know that he didn't wake me because he wanted to let me sleep. Even when he couldn't. My heart swells up to the point that I am almost choking on it. The thought of that makes me giggle just a little bit, because Edward would assure me that something like that wouldn't be medically possible.

I wipe the tears from my eyes. Happy tears, not sad ones. Happy because I am truly with the man of my dreams and I know – beyond a shadow of any doubt – that he will always love me more than anything. And I'm pretty sure that includes science. Though, I'm sure that science runs a close second.

I take a quick shower before I leave. Edward told me I could stay, but it just doesn't feel the same without him here. When I'm done, I head over to the dresser that has all of the items that he bought for me. My items. I start to feel a little overwhelmed with emotion again, but am sidetracked by the fact that I can't seem to find my lotion. And I know it was here. I used it the last time that I was here.

It occurs to me that it might be… No. It couldn't be, could it? I mean, I know that he loves it…and has used it for other purposes in the past. But we really have been having a lot of sex. Like, a lot. Like a fucking lot. I think we have more sex than just about anyone. Well, except for Rose and Emmett…and maybe his crazy family. I decide to check…just to make sure.

I walk over to his nightstand and pause before I open the drawer. I wonder if this will be a huge invasion of privacy until I remember what he said to me the night that he moved in.

"Everything I have is yours, Bella. I want to share my life with you."

I'm pretty sure that I could bend that to mean, "Yes, Bella. Feel free to look in my drawer for your lotion that I may or may not have used to pleasure myself."

I am briefly distracted by images of Edward doing that. I shake my head and quickly open the drawer. My lotion isn't there, and I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

Disappointed.

Definitely disappointed.

Something else catches my eye, though. Something far more interesting – more important – than lotion. There is a laminated sheet of paper, and at the top of the page there are five words.

"Edward Masen's Five Year Plan"

I can't help myself as I sit down on his bed and read.

**Edward Masen's Five Year Plan **

(July 1, 2010 to July 1, 1015)

My goals:

10. Buy a house (with Bella)

9. Acquire a sense of humor (research comedy sites)

8. Become Chief Resident

7. Be a better brother to Alice (try not to alienate Jasper- if they are still married)

6. Be a better son to my parents - make them proud

5. Treat Bella with love and respect. Make her feel special.

4. Support Bella's interests and career goals

3. Propose to Bella

2. Marry Bella

1. Make Bella the happiest woman in the world.

My eyes are filled with tears as I finish and I am once again, overcome with the knowledge…the continuing knowledge of how much he really loves me. I am his soul mate…and he is mine. And the most amazing part of all of this is that he's shown me this, in a million different ways, both little and small. It's just staggering to see it all here, written down and on paper. Laminated paper, at that.

I love him.

I am completely and utterly…wholly and truly in love with Edward Masen.

There will never be anyone but him. And really…there never has been.

.

.

.

When I get back to my apartment, I hear my phone ping with an email. I check it immediately, hoping that it's Edward. I don't think he's emailed me once since he moved to California (not that I'm complaining). I would much rather him be here in person. It does occur to me, however, that with his new schedule, we may have to utilize our original form of courtship more often. And honestly, the thought of that makes me slightly sentimental. His emails were the reason that I fell in love with him in the first place. I open the email - after I squeal when I see that it's from him - and I read it.

From: Dr. Edward Masen

To: Bella Swan

Re: Recent non-sexual relations

Dear Bella,

I'm so sorry. I hope you can forgive my absolute rudeness last night (actually early this morning). I just can't believe I did that. . .and didn't do anything else. Please say you'll forgive me, Bella. Let me explain – do you have any idea how awful the sleeping accommodations are? I haven't been sleeping and my mattress felt so good under me and you were perfect on me.

I was exhausted.

Right now I'm writing this from the aforementioned cot while trying to rest. I just can't because I can't get you out of my head. I want to tell you everything.

My colleagues are quite pleasant. Dr. Mallory looks up to me already. She comments on my technique and the skill of my fingers. She asked me to show her my technique, but I don't have the time to tutor her. I hope you don't think I'm selfish. The nurses also go out of their way to assist me in my procedures. Nurse Heidi even offered me a massage, but I thought that was a bit forward. I know she was just trying to help me, though. She's a very friendly person. One of the other residents even invited me out with his friends to a bar called "The Back Door." Maybe we can go on of these nights I'm not on call. He said he'd show me a good time, so I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you were there as my date.

I'm very happy so far, Bella. I just miss you. I'm hoping to get out at a reasonable hour on Sunday night. I'll have 24 hours off. I promise that I won't fall asleep until I get the job done. Thoroughly.

All my love,

Edward

.

.

I blush at his final thoughts and seems to overshadow my initial jealousy over the plethora of women (and men) that are coming on to him at the hospital. Stupid fucking nurses and doctors. I love that he doesn't recognize it. It makes me happy to know that the most beautiful woman in the world could proposition Edward...and he would probably be oblivious. And more importantly...completely uninterested. Besides, Edward thinks that I am the most beautiful woman in the world. And when I'm with him, I feel like I am.

Have I mentioned that I love him?

As I'm typing out my reply, inspiration strikes...

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.

.

**EPOV**

**Sunday**

When I finally get a break, I read the email reply Bella sent me earlier in the day.

From: Bella Swan

To: Dr. Edward Masen

Re: Recent Amazing Sleep with a Surgeon

Dear Edward,

Please don't apologize for needing sleep after an extended shift at the hospital. I'm sure you were completely exhausted. And honestly, I was just happy to have you home and in your extremely comfortable bed with me. If it makes you feel better, I masturbated next to you, while looking at your naked body. And if it helps you even more…I came. Oh, and your name was on my lips, but there would never – and will never – be another name for me. Ever.

I'm so glad that your fellow residents are being so welcoming and amiable…attentive even. Especially this Dr. Mallory. And trust me Edward…I would never think you're selfish. In fact, I would say that you're extremely giving…thoroughly generous. Of course, this is just me speaking from personal experience. And you can feel free to share that with Dr. Mallory. I think it would be quite beneficial (or hilarious…whatever) for you to tell her just how benevolent you are. And maybe you could mention that your girlfriend said so.

As far as the nurses are concerned – offering a massage is completely inappropriate. I think it might benefit them to know that sexual harassment is a punishable offence. There are state and federal laws to protect you from that kind of hostile work environment. And Edward, I'm sure that _I_ could provide _you_ with some pamphlets regarding this important civil matter.

I'm so happy that you're happy. And I don't want you to spend a moment while you're at work, worrying about me. I will still be here, thinking of you and yes…maybe even missing you. But the point is that I will be here. And I will continue to be here…every day and every night. Hopelessly devoted (in a non-Grease way, of course, because I can't sing and don't look good in satin pants) and entirely in love with you. This is such a small price to pay for you to achieve your dreams. And now that I know (I found your Five Year Plan) that your dreams not only include, but center around me…you should know that all my dreams center around you, too.

I love you, Edward.

So much…and always.

Your Bella

PS: Attached you will find a copy of my Five Year Plan. We can laminate it later.

Bella Swan's Five Year Plan

10.) Finish graduate school.

9.) Learn to speak French and Italian (So I can say sweet and dirty things to Edward)

8.) Buy a house (with Edward)

7.) Write a novel (based on my romance with Edward)

6.) Support Edward's career.

5.) Win a Pulitzer Prize for my novel.

4.) Marry Edward.

3.) Build a home with Edward and make him happy.

2.) Write another novel (based on a dream I had about a vampire romance)

1.) Become a mother and be as wonderful as my parents were.

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I have to get home to Bella. Like right the fuck now.

Ugh. Now I'm using "like" and "fuck" in the same sentence. It must be the sleep deprivation. No wonder that's used as a method of torture.

Bella wants me in her future. She wants to marry me. I'm almost skipping through the hospital with joy (not actually because that would be ridiculous).

I have an overwhelming urge to go to her. Reading that plan – her words – just wrecked me for the day. Luckily I don't have any procedures today. It's hard for me to concentrate during my rounds. I avoid Nurse Heidi and the possible sexual harassment as much as I can. Dr. Mallory notices that I'm distracted and asks me what's wrong. I tell her I miss my girlfriend and she makes a strange face. It's the same one Emmett made when he was on the sexbargo. I wonder if she is also sexually deprived, but I don't ask.

Finally, my shift is over and I shower and change quickly before I drive over to her apartment.

I send her a text to let her know I'm coming.

"_**I need you.**__** Right now. I'll be there in fifteen minutes.**__** I love you.**__** You are everything."**_

So eager am I to see her, I am almost tempted to break the speed limit. I am desperate, but not enough to indulge in criminal behavior.

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Knocking brusquely, the door opens almost immediately. I barge through, nearly knocking her over in my haste to claim her mouth. She gasps against my lips as I pull her flush against me, set firmly between my legs. My hands are everywhere my mouth is not. She hops up, wrapping her legs around me. Oh god. That's so hot. Literally. I feel her through my shirt. I push her against the wall and align myself (meaning my cock) with the heat. I want to keep her right here, always. I think of ways to keep us crotch to crotch…_possibly a_ _baby sling _? Ugh. I'm disgusted by my behavior. And she'd never fit in the sling.

I'm glad I don't say any of this nonsense out loud. I'm embarrassed to even think it. I just jumped her in the living room without even saying a word. I hope she doesn't dump me for being so untoward.

Nana Cullen always says, "Love makes you do foolish things." I must be crazy in love – I'm acting and thinking like a fucking moron. Her theory would explain many of Emmett's less than stellar moments, and would clear up the entire Alice/Jasper situation.

"Bella," I say contritely, dragging my lips from her neck. Believe me, that took effort. Almost as much as it took to remove my cock from between her thighs. "Forgive me for my forwardness. I didn't greet you properly. Good evening." I step back, still holding her close – just not attacking her with my crotch.

"Good evening," she giggles. "And I really loved your greeting. I thought it was completely proper."

"Hey, Edward. Good evening," Rose snorts and my head whips around to the couch where she's watching television. "When you are done with your wall action or whatever, just make sure you clean up. And just in case, Emmett left his tools on the porch," she says in a bored voice. "Though you two and your "lovemaking" probably won't muss the covers." She uses finger quotes, which I detest. I also dislike her insinuation that our sexual activity is bland, but it would be rude to argue with her. And the fact is that she's with Emmett, so I'm quite sure that her gauge of sexual activity is not set to a reasonable norm.

"Hello, Rosalie. I beg your pardon for my rudeness."

She laughs and says, "I'm pretty sure you'll be begging tonight, Edward. But I don't think you'll be begging me."

Someone knocks and Rosalie jumps up to let in... Emmett. Great. Now I'm never going to get Bella in the bedroom. Rosalie and Emmett tongue each other as a greeting, but I can't complain because I practically humped Bella against the wall.

"Que pasa, Edward? What are you two doing tonight?" Emmett asks, obviously abusing his newly-acquired Spanish he learned to assimilate into California culture. Rosalie snorts and rolls her eyes at the question and Emmett's face lights up in recognition. "Oh, shit. That was a stupid question," he says with a laugh. I give him a dirty look as I hold Bella close to me. I can't stop touching her. Emmett raises his eyebrows and makes a lewd gesture with his hand. "C'mon Rose, let's get the fuck outta here. I know that horny look. Edward needs to - Fuck! That hurt," he whines, rubbing his ear where Rosalie flicked him. "Damn, baby, does that mean you're not going to - Fuck! Not the other one, too."

Bella is kissing my neck and ignoring the entire conversation. I can't say I blame her. It is rather inane. The pair open the door to leave and Emmett says, "Adios, fuckers" and Rosalie tells us to stay the fuck out of the hall closet because she doesn't want "Edward's DNA" on her new leather jacket.

Charming. They are a perfect couple.

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Mercifully, they leave without further lewd comments. We are finally alone.

"I love you Bella, so much. After reading your plan, it just…I - I needed to touch you, baby. I'm sorry I attacked you like an animal." I place tiny kisses on her face and the tip of her nose.

"Don't be sorry, baby. I like animals," she laughs. "Touch me. Please."

"Let me show you how much I want you, Bella. Let me love you properly." She sighs and snuggles against my neck as I pick her up into my arms and carry her into her room. I lock the door and lay her gently on the bed.

I start to undress her slowly, my earlier haste under tight control. "Haste makes waste" is another favorite saying of Nana Cullen, but I banish the thought from my head because Bella is almost naked before me and that it's just gross to think about one's grandmother whilst performing sexual acts. I notice that I'm removing incredibly sexy undergarments. A sheer, white bra and a tiny, white lace thong. She's wearing this for me. Too bad it's already on the floor; I might have liked to see her in it.

I'm struck with the image of undressing Bella on our wedding night - removing a white satin gown to reveal the perfection of her skin, the curve of her breasts. I've always planned to marry Bella, but in that instant, I know that she is my life. There is nothing that will keep me from her. I am overwhelmed with love for this woman.

My future.

I look into her eyes as I climb on the bed, kneeling between her legs. I pull my shirt over my head, tossing it aside. I bend to kiss her mouth...the spot behind her ear that makes her moan...I whisper words of love and adoration as I worship her body with my hands and my mouth. My thumbs stroke the tips of her breasts, which harden at my touch. She arches and gasps when I pull a rosy bud between my lips. The scent of coconut and Bella swirls around me and I want to taste her...everywhere. I move lower, spreading her wider... kissing my way down, her fingers tugging at my hair ...urging me lower, lower...until my mouth is exactly where we both want it to be. I make a long, languid pass of my tongue through her heat which brings her hips off the bed. I hold her steady and continue flicking the spot that makes her writhe and whimper.

"Mmmn. You're so wet for me, Bella," I hum, the vibrations making her moan. "Like that, Bella? Tell me, baby. I want to make it so good," I whisper. "I want you to come so hard."

"Oh, please," she whimpers. "Please...please...please..."

Her legs are shaking and she's gripping my hair tightly as I continue licking and sucking. I'm swirling my tongue and she tenses, clutching my head, and I know she's almost there.

"Oh god, Edward. Right there. Please don't stop," she cries.

Fuck yes. I intensify my motions, but not moving from that spot. I could do this all night. I love to please her, taste her, make her shudder.

One final rub with my flattened tongue and then she's coming against my mouth...

**BPOV**

Edward covers my body with his and his arms are around me. I still can't think...can barely feel anything except the still-quivering and and euphoric effects of my orgasm. And I definitely mean euphoric. I swear. It's almost as if the orgasm gods have blessed me with the best orgasms that ever were because I didn't get to come once. And not only are they the best, they now come in multiples and are delivered repeatedly. It's like the best subscription ever!

Edward's mouth is amazing. And his tongue is spectacular. His lips cover mine and I am overcome with my taste on his tongue as he breathes my name into my mouth. His arms wrap around me as he pulls us both higher up on the bed, and I open my eyes, only to see his beautiful green eyes staring back at me. And he's just so fucking beautiful.

"I love you," I tell him. I intend it to be a whisper, but my voice comes out frantic, needy. "I love you so much, Edward."

"Bella," he replies and I know that I will never get tired of hearing him say my name. "I love you, too."

He slips off his pants and shoes then rolls us over until I am on top of him. My legs part automatically because well, yeah...they're pretty much trained to do that anytime he's close to me like this. He groans and I feel him so hard and twitching underneath me. I press down a little because I want to feel him sliding against me there, but I'm still a little sensitive and I jump at the feeling of him against me.

"Are you okay?" he says, concerned and wonderful and reminding me that yes, he is the most perfect man that has ever existed. Ever.

"I'm more than okay," I tell him, pressing down against him once more. "I'm pretty sure I'm perfect. Or you're perfect. Yeah. You. You're definitely perfect."

We giggle together for a moment and I'm just so happy that I don't really know how to contain it. I don't know that I want to. It's almost like I want to run outside and scream to the word that I'm in love with Edward and he's in love with me. Except that I'm naked...and on top of him. And I'm pretty sure that naked Edward and upcoming sex outweigh telling the world anything. The world will still be there when we're done. And I could probably put some clothes on for my announcement. I'm pretty sure Edward would appreciate that.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, smiling.

"Umm," I say, embarrassed by my thoughts. "I'm thinking about how much I love you." It's not a lie, so I don't feel bad.

"I hope it's as much as I love you."

"You're amazing," I tell him...because he is and because I want to tell him that all the time. For the rest of our lives. "I want to make love to you, Edward."

"Oh, please, Bella. I want you so much."

I look into his eyes and without any further speaking, I reach down between us and grab him in my hand, guiding him to my opening and I sink down on to him slowly. Feeling every fucking perfect inch of him as he fills me. I wonder if it's ever been this good and I know that it has. Every single time with Edward has been it's own version of perfect since the second time we made love. This time is just different to me because I know that one day, Edward is going to be my husband. And I don't just want it and dream about it...I know that he wants it and dreams about it, too. And he's planning for it, which is completely like him and only makes me love him more.

"You are so beautiful like that...moving over me. You feel perfect."

"You're perfect," I tell him honestly. "You're the one that's perfect."

I start to move over him, feeling him push in and pull out of me. His eyes are intense and he's whispering words of love and commitment and plans. His hands are covering me and touching me wherever they can...my breasts, my chest, my belly and hips. I can feel him growing tense beneath me and I know that he's close and I so want to get there again with him. It won't take much, so I lean down and gasp into his ear.

"Touch me, Edward," I plead. "Touch me, please. I want to come with you."

"Yes...I want to see you come again. I want to feel you around me."

His hand finds my clit and he circles it, frantically. And the entire time, I never stop riding him, wanting to make him feel as good as he makes me feel. Our eyes lock and we don't look away and just as my next orgasm hits, Edward cries out, "Oh fuck, I'm coming," and I feel him come inside me.

Hot and wet.

Warm and wonderful.

Just like him.

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**A/N**

Reviews are like leaving love in our box.

Thank you for all the love you've given us. LiMB is coming to an end, so we'd love to hear your ideas for outtakes.

**cosmogirl7481**: I wanna make a fic recc. We read _Aha Shake_ by Teambella23 this week and I laughed my ass off. It's mostly crazy and hilarious meets crack-fic. I haven't laughed this hard in a long time. Please check it out and leave the author some love.

**Marvar**: I'm loving _Distractions_ and _Bloodlines_ by windchymes. Both have vamp Edward and feature exciting twists on canon. I read them on the rec of ltlerthqak, and I was hooked.

Follow us on Twitter: cosmogirl7481 and marvar29


	26. Re: A Modest Proposal

A/N: So, this is it. Just the epi remains. Thanks to the people who are still hanging with us until the end.

Happy Thanksgiving!

**Chapter 25**

**Re: A Modest Proposal **

_**We promise - no cannibalism (Bella might do some nibbling)**_

**BPOV**

I finish packing my bag for my vacation with Edward. Well, I guess you could call it a vacation. Three days doesn't seem like a terribly long time away, but with as much as I've missed him in the last year, three days might as well be a month. In fact, I don't even know why I'm packing clothes. It's not like we'll ever leave the hotel room…and I plan on being naked with him the whole time.

Naked.

With Edward.

In Miami.

I'm pretty sure I just came a little thinking about it.

When he first suggested the trip, I was ecstatic. Not only to have some time with him, but also because the gesture was just so fucking romantic. And so…just like him. A part of me wonders if this will be _the moment_, but to be honest, I've sort of given up on the idea for now.

I'm pretty sure that Edward is going to wait until he finishes his residency before he asks me to marry him. It makes sense. He's nothing if not practical. And I would wait for him forever. But I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't a little disappointed. Especially after what I found on Christmas morning. On a side note: I really need to stop looking for things in Edward's drawers.

Sometimes I find things that are wonderful (like the list) and sometimes I find things that are…not.

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**December 25th, 2010**

**7:00 AM**

I wake up to the feeling of soft skin and hard body. A hard and naked and warm body.

"Edward," I breathe his name and I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face.

Waking up with him like this is so rare, but he is working late today and he gets to spend Christmas morning with me. Well, with me and his family…_and my family_. All first year residents have to work the holiday, so I am just grateful that he at least has the morning.

I breathe in deeply and he smells like Christmas and Edward. Well, technically, he smells like gingerbread. When he got home last night, I offered to give him a massage with this gingerbread lotion that I bought at the mall with Alice. He didn't seem to mind the feminine fragrance. When I asked him if he would let me massage him with the fragranced lotion, he said that he would let me massage him with lard. He then amended that statement by saying that massaging him with lard would be impossible, as he didn't keep any artery-clogging substances in his home.

I love him so much.

More than anything.

Fuck, he smells good.

I can't help myself as I begin to kiss and lick the soft skin of his chest. It isn't until I begin to suck softly, that I feel him stir underneath me. He says my name – whispers it really – and it never ceases to amaze me how much it means that it's my name on his lips. Even when he's dreaming.

"Good morning, Bella," he murmurs sleepily. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Edward," I tell him. "Mmm…did you have good dreams?"

He pulls me closer, snuggles in deeper.

"I did."

His voice is soft and thick with sleep and it makes him sound husky…sexy.

"Visions of sugarplums dancing?"

"I only dream of you," he tells me. His eyes are warm and bright…and green like the artificial Christmas tree in his living room. He doesn't like the mess that the falling pine needles make. "I rarely eat sugar and I'm allergic to plums."

"Good," I tell him, giggling. "I'm glad you only dream of me and I promise not to tell the nutcracker about your aversion to sugarplums."

We kiss softly for a while, his lips moving against mine in a way that makes me never want to leave the bed. Who needs Christmas anyway? Everything I want is right here in my arms. I could just spend the rest of the morning unwrapping him again and again.

"So, Dr. Masen," I say, "is there anything special you'd like for Christmas?"

I trail my hand down his stomach, stopping on his pelvic bone and enjoying the feeling of him getting hard underneath me. He groans quietly and then sucks in a breath as my fingers trace lightly across the underside of his cock. I love the way it twitches and jumps against my hand.

"Just this," he says. "That feels so good, but maybe…"

He trails off his head falling back as he closes his eyes. And I love him like this…all sweet and needy and I love even more knowing that I make him feel this way. That there has never been anyone else before me to do this. Not like this. Not perfect and happy and feeling completely loved.

"What?" I ask, hoping I know what he wants. It's what I want, too. "Tell me what you want."

He's so different from the man I met in the spring. Not in ways that have changed him – because he's still the same in so many ways. But now he knows what it feels like to have someone love him entirely, to accept all of the things that make up who he is. And I love him. All of him. Completely.

He looks nervous for a moment and I don't want that. I want him to be able to tell me what he wants with no uncertainty. His nervousness reminds me of when we first met each other. When I would blatantly flirt with sexual innuendo – only I didn't realize just how little innuendo he actually got.

"Everything you do is p-perfect," he whispers.

"You know," I murmur, "it's okay for you to tell me what you want, Edward. I want you to. Like, I _really _want you to."

I bite down on my lip as I look up at him.

"You do?" he asks, his bright eyes darkening.

"Yeah," I encourage him. "I mean…well, what I mean is…don't you like it when I tell you what I want?"

"Yes," he says, his voice is lower, rougher than before.

"Tell me…please."

"I want you to…" he says. "Can you…can you suck it?"

I squeeze him, feeling him all hot and hard in my hand. Running my thumb across the tip of his head and swirling and spreading the moisture around, I ask, "You want me to suck you?"

"Yes," he hisses softly. "Bella."

"Well," I say, kissing my way down his chest, feeling him shudder as my lips press and my tongue licks across his abdomen. "You _do_ taste good."

"I do?"

His voice is tight, breathy and I feel myself getting wet from the sound of how much he wants this…how much he wants me.

"Yeah," I say, lifting my eyes to look at him again. "Like gingerbread."

I push the comforter down, revealing him to me completely. And yeah, he still takes my breath away.

Every. Single. Fucking. Time.

I'll never get over the sight of him naked. Not ever. He's so beautiful and perfect and mine. I push up on my knees and lean over him, admiring him fully as he lays naked before me. I love the way he looks as I hold him in my hand…and I love even more the way he'll taste.

"You're so beautiful," he tells me.

"Funny," I say, swinging my leg over his and straddling his thigh. "I was just thinking the same thing about you."

"I love you," he whispers. "So much."

"I love you, too, Edward," I tell him. "It's been like that…always. And baby…" I say lowering my head and kissing his cock, loving the way it makes him moan, "never be afraid or embarrassed to tell me what you want…or how you feel. I want to hear it."

"You do?" he asks.

Looking at him, I lick him from the base to his tip, flattening out my tongue as it slides against his length.

"I do," I say. "Don't you feel what it does to me? How wet I am?"

"Yes," I hear him say before taking him in my mouth completely.

I love this. I do. So much, and it's actually really surprising because before him – before I knew him and fell in love with him – the thought of doing this didn't make me feel this way. All aroused and emboldened and completely consumed with making him happy. Making him feel good. I want to please him in this way.

"Bella, your mouth," he whispers tentatively and I lift my eyes, looking at him and silently asking him to tell me. "Your mouth feels so…oh…your mouth feels so good."

His taste is on my tongue…filling my mouth. He's slightly salty and slick skin as I suck and lick and just love him - so, so much.

My own confidence rises with his as his words praise and encourage me. I suck him harder…take him deeper, wanting nothing more than to see what I see in his eyes - love and desire and a need that never seems to lessen. It only grows with every day. Stronger and sweeter and deeper than ever. And maybe it's because we don't get to be together like this all the time…but I think that it's because it's him and it's me…and it's the two of us together. It would never be like this with anyone else. It will never be like this with anyone but him.

I hum around his cock and I wonder what he sees when he looks at me like this. Does he feel the same way that I feel? His hands are grabbing the sheet on the bed, but I see him reach out, placing one hand in my hair while he grabs my hand that is currently resting on his hip. He squeezes it tightly before twining our fingers together and this one small thing fills me up with so much happiness, I don't know if I can contain it. And just when I think that there can't be anything more perfect than this moment, I hear him…his wonderful words.

"It feels…you feel…oh, Bella…" he says. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…"

I want to stop so that I can tell him I love him, too. But instead…I show him. Completely. I love him with every lick...I love him with every kiss…and when he comes with my name on his lips, I love him with everything that I have.

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"Your parents will be here soon," he murmurs, as he pulls me closer into his arms. "We should probably get up and take a shower."

"I don't want to get out of bed," I pout, still stroking him even though he's all soft. "You'll be gone for two more days after this."

He sighs and I feel him laughing underneath me.

"Bella, I'm fairly certain your father travels with a gun and I would really appreciate not having to perform surgery on myself on Christmas morning."

"He wouldn't shoot you on Christmas, Edward," I say, laughing along with him. "He would be afraid of what Baby Jesus would think."

I feel him stiffen in my arms a bit and I look up at him, concerned.

"What's the matter?" I ask.

"Umm…" he starts. "Could you umm…could you maybe not talk about _Baby Jesus_ while we're naked and my umm… and my…_cock_ is in your hand?"

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A few minutes later, Edward is in the bathroom starting the shower and waiting for me to join him. I just started coffee and am walking back into the bedroom. I decide to go ahead and get him some boxers…you know, just in case my parents actually do show up. As I open the drawer, I can't help but notice the small velvet box inside. My first instinct is to shut the drawer and pretend I never saw it. Who am I kidding? My first instinct is to open the little box as quickly and as quietly as possible. So, I do.

Oh. My. God.

It's an engagement ring. Not only is it an engagement ring, but it is the largest, oldest….and quite possibly the ugliest ring I've ever, _ever_ seen. There are all these diamonds and it looks like a pillbox. You know, probably because it came from a time when women actually carried pillboxes. I don't know when that time was, but I mean really…who can't carry a bottle of pills in your purse? It's not like they're that big.

Oh. My. God.

Edward is going to ask me to marry him and I'm thinking about pillboxes. Not only that, but Edward is going to ask me to marry him and he's going to do it by giving me this really horrible, awful ring that's bigger than my hand. And here's the thing, even though it's ugly and nothing like what I would choose for myself…I'm going to say yes.

Edward is going to propose.

And of course, I'm going to say yes.

I'm not an idiot.

I mean, it is Edward.

The man of my dreams.

The person that was made to love me.

The person I was made to love.

Even if he does have horrible taste in rings.

I hear him call my name and I jump, closing the box and slamming the drawer shut. My heart is pounding in my chest and I am suddenly filled with even more love than I thought was possible. Edward wants me to be his wife. And even if I have to wear that ring…I would have it no other way. He is my soul mate…my best friend….my heart…my Edward.

I love him.

I'm going to have to suck his cock again, now.

Maybe the ring isn't so bad after all.

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**EPOV**

**March 12, 2011**

So now, on the anniversary of the day we met, we are getting ready to leave for our trip to Miami. This is where I'll make my fourth attempt to make Bella my fiancé.

The first three tries were a disaster.

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**December 31, 2010**

"Hi, beautiful. You look incredible," I say to my amazing girlfriend as she opens her front door. I lean in for a kiss, which lasts for several minutes and leaves both of us panting. I'm always missing her with my erratic schedule; I can't wait until I can have her by my side at all times. I want to come home to her every night. Hopefully after tonight I will rectify this situation.

"Happy New Year, Edward," she whispers against my lips. "I'm not sure I want this year to end. It's been the best year of my life."

"Mine too, Bella." I kiss the tip of her nose. "But we have so much to look forward to. I promise to make every year with you better than the last." She beams as I help her with her coat.

In the car, she plays her "Winter Wonderland" playlist on her iPod. The joy in her eyes and the way she sings along to "Santa Baby" makes me smile and I'm overflowing with love for her. My cock is also infatuated with her; he's paying very close attention whenever she croons, "Baby, hurry down the chimney" (the lyrics are quite suggestive). But when she gets to the part where Eartha Kitt asks for a ring, she gets flustered and skips to the next song. My heart begins beating erratically and I panic.

Does she not want a ring? Will she say "no" when I ask?

The past six months have been so hectic I'm lucky she hasn't dumped me. I tell her this constantly, but she always laughs and tells me I'm ridiculous.

By the time we get to my parents' house, I feel slightly ill. I'd examine myself or ask my dad to, but I know it's psychosomatic. I'm merely feeling the nerves for my task tonight. I have to calm myself or I will ruin everything. I can't even drink because I'm on call. Even though I used every favor I was owed, I still run the risk of getting called in. My plans would be ruined, and I'd still have to go to something called "Glee night" with Dr. Newton.

He's been bugging me to go on a guys' night out ever since I started working with him (we never did go to The Backdoor). Maybe I'll bring Emmett. Michael always asks about him ever since Emmett was there to get his finger x-rayed. I think he wants Emmett to train him because he's always making comments about Emmett's muscles. I told him that Emmett works me really hard, pushing me to my physical limit every time we get together. Michael seemed very excited about that prospect. How refreshing to see a doctor take an interest in physical fitness.

Only my nana and my parents are there when we arrive. Am I the only one who cares about punctuality?

My nana is sitting in my mother's favorite chair next to my dad. My mother is at the bar. Oh, it's going to be "one of those" nights - it better not interfere with my plans. I love Nana, but she can be a bit pushy.

We greet my parents and then go to my grandmother. "Edward, my favorite grandchild. Let me look at you. Chop chop, Edward, I'm waiting. You know my cataracts are getting worse. You've seen the x-rays. And this must be Isabella. She's even lovelier than the pictures you sent me." My grandmother appraises Bella and gives me a wink of approval. I grin and kiss my nana hello. Bella looks nervous, so I squeeze her hand in reassurance.

"Grandmother, this is Bella. Bella, this is my grandmother, Kathleen Cullen. Also known as Nana." I hear my mother mutter something like "Lucifer" and "retirement home." Great, I thought only Emmett did that.

Bella hugs my nana and they begin chatting about Berkeley, Nana's alma mater. I watch, thrilled to see that they get along. I was worried because of the way she feels about –

"Edward! She's perfect. Completely worthy of you. Excellent choice. I knew you'd be the only sensible one. Look at what your father and Alice brought home. Dear lord, who would have thought your sister would marry a hippie? He probably smokes 'the weed.' And don't get me started on Es-"

"Mom, can I get you something to eat?" Thankfully, my father interrupts before things get ugly. I see my mom drain her glass and walk out. She returns with Rosalie and Emmett.

"Now the party can start!" Emmett booms. I sigh in relief when I see him, which is unusual. Normally, I sigh in exasperation. But Nana loves Emmett, and that will keep her away from mom. Honestly, she lusts for him. If he was willing…well, I don't like to think about what she'd do to him.

"Two words: Drunk. Operation. It's the Buzz Lightyear version," he says excitedly. "And Edward is not allowed to play. He makes too many comments about how unrealistic the body parts are and how the instruments aren't sterilized. He's a fucking buzz-kill."

Rosalie rolls her eyes and hugs us hello. "Ignore him. Apparently his New Year's resolution is to be a douchebag with a childish heart. Well, you know...a childish heart and a big..."

"You look beautiful, Rose," Bella interrupts, thankfully, saving me from hearing about Emmett's extremities.

"Ooh Emmett, flex for me, handsome," my nana calls out. Emmett trots over to make his pecs "dance." I don't know if watching him preen or seeing my grandmother fawn over him is more disturbing. I avert my eyes as quickly as possible.

"Hey Edward, tell your 'Nana Jaguar' to keep her paws off my man," Rosalie says with a scowl. "I don't want him smelling like Aspercreme and old Chanel when he kisses me at midnight."

Excellent. While I'm proposing to Bella, I can also keep an eye on Rose and Nana in case a brawl ensues.

Rose is scary, but I'd take odds on Nana to win. That old woman _is _like a jaguar.

Alice and Jasper arrive a short while later. Amazingly, Jasper is wearing a suit. He almost looks normal (the giant crystal medallion keeps him from being completely normal). Alice must be doing him some good.

"Nice suit, Jasper. You look really…appropriate," I offer. Alice beams at my compliment.

"Thank you, Edward. You know it's 100 percent organic hemp?" he says, smiling brightly.

Fantastic, he's wearing "the weed." I hope he doesn't share this information with Nana. I glance in her direction to see if she overheard. She has her hands in Emmett's shirt. I decide I'm going to only look at and talk to Bella for the rest of the night.

Bella has a few drinks and she makes me dance with her. Normally I don't enjoy dancing, but with Bella I don't move awkwardly. I daresay she enjoys the way I move against her. That's fun until I notice Emmett and Nana doing what Bella calls the "lambada."

I call that "disturbing."

But I realize my father did an excellent job on her hip replacement.

.

.

.

The night is very pleasant if you ignore the dirty looks between my mother and Nana, Rose and Nana, and Jasper and me (those looks are only one way).

My nerves begin to bother me again when I realize it is almost time to propose to Bella. I replay my speech in my head. I pat the ring in my pocket and prep myself for the big moment. I place the ring in the bottom of a flute and pour the champagne. I pass out the other flutes, reserving the special one for Bella.

Just when I'm about to walk over to Bella, my mother grabs the glass and chugs it down. She grabs me by the arm and drags me out to the patio.

"Mom! Why did you do that? I was going to propose to Bella."

She spits the ring out and hands it to me. I take it back, making a note to sanitize it and my hands. She's my mother, but bacteria are everywhere.

"I saw what you were about to do, Edward. Sweetheart, I just did you a huge favor. No one, I repeat, no one, should ever have to wear that hideous ring. Why do you think I'm not wearing it now?" she asks, swaying slightly.

"Because Nana doesn't like you, mom. She says you, um, imbibe rather frequently," I answer hesitantly.

"No! Because I told Carlisle I wanted a new ring. That one smells like mothballs – well, so does Mother Cullen - and looks like…oh, shit. It's just ugly. And she calls me a 'lush,' Edward." Her voice softens. "Buy a ring for _her_, sweetie. One that she will love."

My head tilts down in frustration. I am so bad at this. Damned _Proposals for Dummies_. Why would I ever trust anything with the word "dummy" in the title?

"What if she turns me down anyway?" I murmur.

She grabs my cheeks and looks into my eyes. "You are an amazing man. Bella is going to be thrilled when you ask her to marry you," she asserts.

"But only if you aren't holding that old lady ring."

.

.

.

**January, 2011**

"Damn, Edward. How did you get these kickass seats, bro? Fucking Kobe just flung some sweat on me. That's awesome," Emmett yells across the seats, holding out his fist for a presumed bump. His extreme volume is actually appropriate here in the arena. Too bad we'll have to leave in a few hours and resume our eardrum torture.

I gingerly tap his fist with mine. I hope he's washed his hands. Regardless, I plan to use my pocket sanitizer when he's not looking.

"I dissected one of the player's father's bowels. He was so happy with the results that he gave me the tickets. I paid him the face value, of course, for ethical reasons," I answer.

Emmett snorts and mumbles something like "boy scout" and "goody-two-shoes."

He had begged me to give him the tickets so he and Rose could go. Bella was present at the time, so I couldn't tell him "no" or tell him my special plans for the game.

He didn't even offer to return the tickets when I told him about my plan. He had said, "A, they're courtside versus the Lakers so you'd have to pry them out of my cold, dead hands," (I didn't tell him I briefly considered anesthesia-that would be a gross violation of my Hippocratic Oath), "and secondly, I have to see this shit in person."

Fucking Emmett. My mother already ruined one proposal. This one was going to happen.

Bella rubs my hand that's holding hers, and I bring it to my lips to kiss her ring finger. Soon my ring will be there. Well, Bella's new ring, if she'll have me. I had taken my mother's advice and purchased a ring that I think Bella will love. The saleswoman at Tiffany's said Bella was the luckiest woman on earth.

She had that backwards. I'm the lucky one.

We watch the game sipping beer and eating hot dogs. I'm not paying much attention to the game; I'm looking at my watch.

It's time.

I pull out a box of Cracker Jacks from my coat pocket. I put it my lap, reciting my planned words in my head. As I'm about to hand the box to Bella, two things happen: I get a text from the hospital calling me in for an emergency surgery, and while I'm reading it Emmett snatches the box and pours it in his mouth.

"Noooo!" I yell, grabbing desperately for the box, which is now empty. I moan in aggravation. Emmett makes a face - it's his "what-crawled-up-your-ass-Edward-face." I know it because whenever he makes it that's what he always asks. Little does he know that it might be me going up his ass to retrieve what he swallowed.

"What the fuck? Were you dying for some Cracker Jacks, dude?" Emmett says in disbelief. "I'll buy you another box before you cry and shit."

Bella and Rose are now watching our exchange so I resist the urge to do bodily harm. One blow to his larynx and he wouldn't be so smug.

"They were for Bella. I had planned to give them to her tonight, remember, Emmett?" I say through clenched teeth. He gets a look of recognition, which turns to horror as he grabs his throat and starts coughing.

"Jesus Christ, Emmett," Rose says. "Swallowing. It's really not that hard. Well, not after anyway."

Bella snorts at that comment.

"Bella, I just got called into the hospital, can you go home with Rose and Emmett?"

"Of course," she says, kissing me on the cheek. "I understand."

I quickly text the hospital and then the scoreboard operator, cancelling my surprise. I kiss Bella goodbye and demand that Emmett walks me out. As soon as we're out of earshot he says, "Dude, I'm fucking sorry. I didn't know the ring was in there. Don't worry. I'll eat some nachos and it'll be out in a jiffy." I nearly choke him when I grab him by the collar and glare right into his eyes.

As calmly as I can muster, I say, "You have three choices. One, you throw it up immediately. Two, I surgically remove it from your body. Three is your plan, which involves nachos, a toilet, and you owing me fifty thousand dollars. So choose wisely."

As I'm walking out I hear gagging noises. I make a mental note to buy a gallon of bleach and more rubbing alcohol.

.

.

.

**March 12, 2011**

So.

I hate everyone. No, that's unfair. I intensely dislike all of my relatives and friends.

But, I really love Bella.

Hence, the reason I dislike everyone. They have ruined my plans to propose to the woman I love. Numerous times.

The last was probably the worst because my Bella got sick - how was I to know that she got seasick so easily? It was only a twilight cruise on the bay. Holding her hair while she evacuated the contents of her stomach was not the plan for our Valentine's Day. Sigh. I believe she would have been pleased by the trained dolphin carrying her ring.

Jasper said it was "bad karma" for exploiting an animal. Screw Jasper (not literally - that would be wrong). I don't know why Alice has to tell him anything, anyway.

If I believed in "fate" or "signs" I would start thinking that we were not meant to be together. But of course that's ridiculous. Bella and I are MFEO.

Made for each other. Yes, I finally watched _Sleepless in Seattle_.

I don't mean that in a fairy tale sort of way, I mean that we are mentally, emotionally, and physically perfect for each other. My mind tells me that she is my other half, my soul mate. My heart says…well, my heart doesn't speak, obviously, but if it did it would say, "Marry her, idiot" (my fictitious, speaking heart must be rude).

.

.

.

It's almost time to leave for the airport and I ask her to check the flight status while I load our bags in the car. When I walk back into the bedroom, the screen doesn't have the flight departures or our itinerary.

Son of a...

She has my proposal file open. The one with all the details of my failure. Panic floods my system, but I shove it down. There's no way I'm failing this time. All of these elaborate plans with scoreboards and yachts and trained mammals - it just wasn't right. That's why none of it ever worked.

I don't need gimmicks to show her how much I love her.

I just need to tell her. Now.

I pull the blue box out of my pocket and get down on one knee.

"Bella, can you turn around?"

**BPOV**

I open his computer to check the flight status and I see that he has a document open. I click on it, not because I'm trying to snoop - Edward never keeps anything from me anyway. But when I look at it, I see these words...these crazy, unbelievable, beautiful words. And I'm stunned...and all of the breath in my body leaves.

He was going to do it.

All of those times...he was going to do it and I didn't know.

And now...now I don't know what to do. My mind is racing and my heart is pounding and I feel the need to scream or shut the computer and...what? Pretend like I didn't see it? Yes. That's exactly what I need to do. Except I don't. I don't because I'm crying. And I'm crying because he loves me. He loves me and he's going to ask me to marry him. He wants me to be his wife...he wants to be my husband.

"Bella, can you turn around?" I hear him ask from behind me and I freeze.

He's here and he's obviously seen what I've seen and I fear that I've ruined it. Again. Slowly, I turn around. My face is flushed and wet from my tears and I'm almost afraid to look at him, but I force myself to look up and when I do...I'm stunned once again.

He's kneeling before me and before I can think...I speak.

"All of those times," I whisper. "All of those times you were going to ask me, weren't you? I didn't think you would. I mean...well, what I mean is, I knew you would...eventually. But I didn't think it would be then. And I was willing to wait. Would have waited for you forever. I thought...I think...I don't know what I think."

I'm rambling and I stop myself. Mostly because I've run out of breath, but also because it strikes me for the first time that he's not just kneeling. He's kneeling...on one knee and I can see the love shining in his eyes.

"I don't want to wait forever. In fact, I can't even want to wait until we get to Miami. Bella, the second I saw you in that bar in Miami I knew I had to meet you. When we were together that night, I knew that you were special. That's why I had to find you again. And when I fell in love with you, I knew that you had to be my wife.

Isabella Marie Swan, I promise to love you every single day of forever. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

I'm sitting on Edward's bed...in yoga pants because I thought they would be the most comfortable clothing to fly in. I'm crying and my hands are shaking and I fear that I may drop and break his computer because I have lost all ability to hold onto anything.

But none of that matters.

Not any of it.

At all.

"Do you remember when you asked me to be your girlfriend?" I ask him.

"Of course. I have perfect recall. But Bella, I just asked you a question. I-I'd like an answer."

"I know...but you probably don't know that when you asked me to be your girlfriend...after I read the email I was so happy...elated, really. It was the happiest night of my life. Well, up until then. Every single day with you has gotten better and better."

"I'm thrilled to hear that, but...I'm waiting here on bended knee, Bella," he replies nervously.

"You told me that night, in your email, that you wanted me to be yours. You know, in a non-ownership, 50/50 kind of way...but, Edward, you have to know that you have owned me since the moment I read your first email. Completely," I tell him, placing the laptop beside me and kneeling before him on the floor. "And my answer to this question is the same answer I gave you that night. Yes, Edward! Yes...yes...yes...a hundred times...yes! I love you, Edward. I love you so much and I will spend the rest of my life loving you. Yes!"

Edward blows out a long breath and breaks into a huge grin. "Do you want the ring now?" he asks excitedly.

I nod my head, not caring that he's about to give me the ring that I saw. I don't care about the ring. Fuck, I love the ring because it means that I get to be his wife.

"I hope you like it." He opens the blue box and takes out...oh, my god. It's not the ring. It's _a_ ring...just not the one that I was expecting. This ring...well, it's the _most _beautiful ring I've ever seen. "I was originally going to give you my great-grandmother's ring - a family heirloom, but my mom convinced me that you deserved your own ring. If you don't like it, I'll buy you anything you want, Bella. I'd do anything for you."

"It's perfect, Edward," I whisper. "You...you're perfect."

He slips it on my finger, his hands are shaking as much as mine. And it fits me perfectly...just like him.

He reaches up and strokes my wet cheeks before pulling me to him and kissing me...deeply, passionately. His tongue is sweet and he tastes the same as always. Like peppermint and happiness. Only this time, it's mixed with the distinct and wonderful flavor of forever. Which, by the way, tastes a lot like chocolate.

"Bella, I could kiss you all night, but we need to catch our flight. I really want a 'do-over' in Miami," he whispers between kisses.

"I don't know, Edward," I tell him. "I think we got it right the first time."

"I wasn't talking about the proposal. I was talking about the sex."

.

.

.

.

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**A/N**

Reviews are awesome and taste like peppermint and happiness.

We love and appreciate them all.

cosmogirl7481: I want to recc' a O/S that I read this week that absolutely blew me away. _ While in the Moment_ by yellowglue. This was genuinely one of the hottest things I have ever read. Ever. It was so good and would definitely be worth you checking out. Please, leave the author some love.

Marvar: I'm in love with Just4ALE. Not only does she write the amazing _Tunes with Tony Masen_, she also wrote the "American Vampire Series," which is complete. Check them out, and leave a review or four.

Also, I love a good sports fic. Try _First & Ten_ by Nolebucgrl if you want a super-hot QBward.

Follow us on Twitter: cosmogirl7481 and marvar29.


	27. Re: Ever After Happily

**LiMB Epilogue**

**Re: Ever After (Happily)**

.

.

.

"Edward, why am I wearing a blindfold? You know I'm not into that."

I'm sitting in the car with my fiancé. I love calling him that. I do it all the time now…especially in my own mind. Actually, it's mostly in my own mind. Rose told me that if I continued to call him that all the time, she would vomit. And then she told me that since she has morning sickness, doing anything that would make her sicker was just mean.

I don't think she really cares. I think she's just a little bit jealous that she didn't really get to do the whole engagement thing. You know…the surprise pregnancy didn't really lend itself to a long engagement. But the wedding in Vegas was pretty fun. Even Edward had a good time.

_Edward…_

_My Edward…_

_My fiancé…_

"Bella," Edward says as he places his hand over mine that has been resting on his thigh. I can tell that we have stopped moving. Edward never holds my hand while he's driving. He thinks it's unsafe. Once, I tried reminding him of what he let me do to him the first weekend that we were together. My hand…his car…his cock. He told me that he needed two hands to drive – not his penis. He did have a valid point. He usually does. "You know I'm not into that either. I have a surprise for you."

I knew he would do something big today. Even though I told him that I didn't want anything. The truth is, since Edward proposed, there is nothing in the world that I want. I already have everything I ever dreamed of – including the education I always wanted.

I graduated today. I officially earned my master's degree and Edward was there with our family. He made a point of taking my phone away – so as to avoid any texting mishaps. There were none. There was just my own excitement as I looked up and saw the green eyes that fill my days and dreams.

_And everything was perfect._

_Everything is perfect. _

"What kind if surprise?" I ask, secretly excited about what he could have planned.

"Um, the good kind?" he says, but it sound like a question.

It still amazes me that he can be unsure of himself in any way. He has nothing to ever be unsure of. I am completely sure of him…of everything about him. I have been for so long.

"So...it's a naked surprise?"

He laughs and the sound is sweet and rich and warm. I feel his thumb trace circles on my hand and around my engagement ring. He does that a lot. I think he loves the fact that I'm his fiancé as much as I love that he's mine. And honestly, I can't wait to finally put a ring on his finger, so that the whole world will know that he belongs to me.

Especially Dr. Mallory.

Fuck her.

"Is that the only kind of surprise that's good?" he asks as he leans in across the console of the car.

I can feel his soft, warm breath on my neck and even though it's ridiculously warm outside, I shiver. It never ceases to amaze me that he always has the same effect on me. Every time we are together is still just as good as the first time. Well, the second first time. The first time was amazing in its own way, actually. And the recreation of the first time in Miami after he proposed was even better.

_Hot…and soft…and hard…and long…_

We never left the room.

Yeah, it was amazing.

Wait.

He just asked me a question and I got sidetracked thinking about his cock.

Fuck.

His cock really does have magical powers.

"All surprises are better when you're naked, Edward."

I turn my face toward him. I'm not really loving the fact that I can't see his face. It's a good thing I can see him in vivid detail even when I close my eyes. I can feel him, though…and he's close. His breath tickles my face and I gasp a little when I feel his lips cover mine.

Have I mentioned that I love kissing my fiancé?

Really.

I could do it for days.

"Everything is better when you're naked, Bella," he murmurs against my lips before sucking the bottom one into his mouth.

I'm pretty sure I whimper.

I'm pretty sure he groans.

"Agreed," I tell him, pulling back and licking his taste from my lips. "But I'm still not wearing the blindfold. I like to see you. It's kind of the best part. Well, maybe not the best part. I mean...I really like the kissing part and the touching part. And I love when you do that thing with your tongue. Oh...and the part where you're inside me is really good. Yeah. That's my favorite part. Definitely. Maybe. Yeah...definitely."

He chuckles and I feel his finger trail down my neck. I don't know if it's just the excitement of the day or the fact that he was just kissing me and I can't see what's going on, but just the feeling of his finger against my skin is amazing. Maybe there's something to this blindfold thing after all.

"I think I can help you out with that later," he says and then kisses me gently one more time. "Definitely. But for now, we're here."

He gets out of the car and I wait for him to open my door. When he does, he pulls me out and wraps his arms around my waist. The first thing I notice – aside from the fact that I'm pretty sure I want to have sex with him right now – is that it's really quiet wherever we are. We are definitely not at home. Hmmm…I wonder if I'll be able to get him to have sex with me in a public place. He still refuses to do that. He told me that my body was for his eyes only…and it's not safe or sanitary.

"Where is here?" I ask. "And why is it so quiet?"

"You'll see," he says as we walk forward. I'm not unbalanced at all – even with the blindfold. Edward is leading me and I feel completely safe. He always makes me feel that way. "Just trust me."

"I do."

Fuck, I can't wait to say that at our wedding. I can't wait to be his wife…for him to be my husband. And _that_ is the only word I love more than fiancé.

_Husband._

Dr. Edward Masen is going to be my husband.

Mine.

"Ready?" he whispers. He pulls my hair back and kisses my neck before pulling the blindfold off. "Surprise."

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, but slowly they do and when I realize where we are – what he has done – my knees go weak. He must expect this reaction, because he grips me tighter and pulls me flush against him. He is warm…the sun is warm…and this…this is amazing.

This is too much.

"You bought me a house?" I ask, my voice trembling. "You bought _this_ house…_the_ house? Holy...oh, my god. You bought me a house…"

My words trail off because I find that I don't really have any words that are adequate. This is the house that we looked at over a month ago. It was perfect…it is perfect. But I thought we decided to stay in Edward's condo while he finished his residency.

"I bought _us_ a house, Bella," he says. "It _is_ for you because I know you loved it, but this house…_our house_…this is for us."

I turn around to face him, still overwhelmed and awkward on my own feet…and I kiss him with everything I have. Every emotion and every bit of the love that is running through me. I think I startle him with the force of my body. He recovers quickly and pulls me to him, holding me and kissing me back in the most awkward, most wonderful kiss we've ever had.

And that's saying a lot.

"Do you want to go inside?" he asks excitedly.

I'm nodding my head and I want to say yes, really I do, but I still can't find any words. I briefly wonder if being a writer is what I should want to do with my life. Because words are kind of important to the occupation and all I really want to do with my life right now is be with him.

It has always been him.

We walk inside, into the open and empty space. The walls and floor are bare and it strikes me that this empty space is just waiting for us – for me and Edward – to fill it. To make it a home. And I want to make and build a home with him…for him. And then it strikes me that all of this is really happening. Edward is going to be my husband. We are going to live here together. We are going to make love in every room. Yes…every single room. I'm glad that some of the rooms have carpet because I don't know how comfortable the tile will be when I push him down on the floor in a minute.

Finally finding my words, lame as they may be, I tell him, "I can't believe you did this."

His eyes are soft and bright green. Like the color of summer…like the color of happiness. And he smiles at me – this breathtaking smile. And I mean that literally because I may be hyperventilating.

"Bella, how many times do I have to tell you?" he asks. "I would do anything for you. Anything at all."

And even though I knew it before, standing here with him in this place – our new home – I know beyond any shadow of doubt I never really had, that it's true. There is nothing he wouldn't or hasn't done for me. And I also know that there is nothing – not one single thing – that I wouldn't do for him.

"I love you, Edward. I love you so much and I swear, if it wasn't for the fact that our families would kill us…I would beg you right now to take me to Vegas and make me your wife right. Today…tonight. I want…I can't wait to be your wife. I can't wait to start our life together. And I know that we've already started it…and maybe that I'm not making any sense. But I just love you so much and I feel the need to tell you…to show you somehow…only nothing seems like it's enough. "

He stops my rambling with a kiss. It's sweet and soft and even as it silences me, I suck in a breath that tastes like him. And I don't know if there's a word to describe what he tastes like. Because it's more than peppermint and happiness…it's more than chocolate and love. He tastes like the very essence of all my dreams coming true.

And there are no vocabulary words for that.

He leads me to the master bedroom, but before we ever reach the door, I breathe in deeply and I am filled with the scent of lavender and vanilla. He pushes open the door and in the room, I see a bed in the center of the floor. Just a bed – a perfect and already made bed with candles lit all around it. And I giggle as I think about the fact that I won't have to make love to him on the floor. Although, I might still want to do that anyway. I lean back into him, feeling him hard and pressing against me…and I know that he can tell what I'm thinking because apparently he's thinking the exact same thing.

The light in the room is golden and warm and it mirrors exactly the way I feel. The sun is setting and the light is streaming through the glass doors leading outside. And everything in my life is perfect.

Perfect.

Just like him.

"Are you happy?" he asks.

His question takes me by surprise because I know that he must feel my happiness rolling off me in waves as I'm practically vibrating with it. I nod my head enthusiastically, you know…since I am still a woman of so few relevant words. Which must be surprising to him because really…when am I ever without words? So I tell him…exactly that.

"I'm so happy that I'm speechless."

"Good. But I have one more surprise for you," he whispers.

"There's more?" I ask. "How can there be more than this?"

He takes my hand and then he leads me to the glass doors. He opens them up and I blush and giggle as I see the already steaming and bubbling hot tub on the patio.

"Are you sure this surprise isn't for you?"

He chuckles and says, "Um, well, it's for both of us. You seemed to enjoy it as much as I did last time."

"You seem to like to celebrate the things in life in a hot tub, Dr. Masen," I say, turning in his arms and allowing him to hold me closer.

"Didn't you say naked surprises were good?"

"I think my master's would like to make love to your MD," I tell him giggling. "Right here in this hot tub."

"Is that so, Ms. Swan?" he asks, grinning.

"Uh…yeah…" I say, feeling that familiar tingling in my belly…and lower. "And then," I whisper, trailing my fingers up his tie and pulling him closer to me, "then…your fiancé would like to make love to you in that bed."

His eyes darken and his lips part. I can feel his breath on my face as he whispers.

"Our bed."

"Ours," I say.

No more words are spoken as we undress each other and then he leads me into the water…

.

.

.

"Wh-wha…what is that?" I ask, looking down at the box in my lap.

Technically, I'm looking at the contents of the box – pink silicone and round with little nubs all over it. I have a sinking feeling I should know what it is…but I don't.

"Well, I won't know what it is if you don't show it to us, Bella," Rose says, laughing.

I'm pretty sure I don't want anyone to see this. I don't know why I think that, but I do. Shaking my head, I lift the contents up to show everyone. It slides on my middle finger in the process. My mother and Alice begin to laugh along with Rose – if you can call what Rose is doing laughter. It's more like cackling.

"Mom, that is awesome," Alice says.

Esme just chuckles and takes a drink of her champagne. My mother takes a drink of hers, too, but I suspect it's for different reasons.

"Esme!" Rose exclaims. "I can't believe you got your son's fiancé a cock ring!"

_A cock ring?_

_What the hell is a cock ring?_

"Not just a cock ring," Esme says, smiling. "A vibrating cock ring."

_Fuck my life._

"You mean…I mean…this is…" I stumble all over my words, unable to form a coherent thought…much less a sentence. "This is for _Edward_?"

"Trust me, dear," Esme says before she finishes the last of her drink. "It's just as much for you."

I look at all of them. I can feel the blush covering my face and neck. You would think that I would be used to all of this by now, but I'm still not. I look back at the device in my hand, then up to the women surrounding me, then back down to my hand once more…

"I'm pretty sure it won't fit him."

They all burst into laughter, but I am still looking at this little piece of plastic and knowing that there is no way it will fit around Edward's…cock. Yeah, no…that's just not happening. They have no idea.

"Well, damn, Bella," Rose says, pushing up off the couch and coming over to sit beside me. "Tell us how you really feel."

I quickly try to put it back in the box, but before I can hide it away, I hear a voice coming from the door.

"Leave it to my daughter-in-law to buy her daughter-in-law something so vulgar and inappropriate."

"Nana Cullen," I say, mortified. "I thought you couldn't make it."

"Well, I got to thinking that it's not every day that my favorite grandson is going to marry the girl of his dreams, so I decided to make the trip."

"Well, goodie for us," Esme says, not even trying to hide her dissatisfaction. I try unsuccessfully not to giggle. I know their relationship in contentious, but Nana Cullen loves Edward – even if she is kind of a bitch to his mother. "And my gift is completely appropriate for the setting. Not that you would understand that. I'm sure Bella will love the flannel pajamas you got her. Although, if I'm being honest, I never used the ones you gave me for my bridal shower."

"Now, now, Esme…this day is about Bella. Not us," she says, taking a seat next to Alice. "And the flannel was special…just for you. I got Bella something completely different…that doesn't…err…vibrate."

"Well, that's good…but I have news for you," Esme continues. "A picture of you for their nightstand isn't sexy either."

"Oh, snap!" Rose says and it startles me from the thought of actually having a picture of Nana Cullen on our nightstand. She wouldn't really give us that…would she? "Esme, may I refill your drink?"

I shoot her a look, pleading with her not to make this any more uncomfortable.

"What?" she says. "Come on, Bella. That shit was funny. And I love it when Esme drinks."

"Oh, Rosalie," Nana Cullen says. "Then you must be in love all the time. By the way, I almost didn't notice you because it looks like you've put on a bit of weight. How is that Emmett doing? I sure did have a good time dancing with him on New Year's Eve. He's a real man's man. Just like my Carlisle and Edward."

"Did you just call me fat?" Rose shrieks and then looks at me. "Did she just call me fat?"

"No, dear," Nana Cullen says. I'm pretty sure it was sarcastically. Fuck, Edward might be rubbing off on me a little too much. "I would never call you fat. Although, I might stay away from that cake if I were you."

"Nana Cullen," Alice says. "Why didn't you say anything about Jasper? Jasper is a man's man."

My mother, who had been unusually quiet, – it _was_ understandable – chooses this exact moment to speak up.

"You know, the first time I met Charlie's mother…she showed me pictures of him taking a bath when he was a child. Do you know that he had a water-rifle as his bath toy? I'm also pretty sure he had a mustache."

I giggle at my mother who has this keen ability to diffuse tense situations. Usually she does it with frank humor and disarming honesty.

This time is really no different.

"Charlie's mother hated me," she says almost flippantly. "She hated that I was liberal and she hated that I didn't know how to cook. But even with as much as she disliked me, she never had the balls to say some of the things that are being said here today. You, Nana Cullen, are one ballsy lady. Really…I think that your balls are bigger than the manliest man in the world's balls. They must be really heavy. How on earth do you carry them around all the time?"

_Oh. My. God._

Nana Cullen gasps and Esme laughs…so does Rose. I sit there mortified. If possible, this is worse than your future mother-in-law giving you a cock ring.

I'm sorry, my mistake.

A vibrating cock ring.

"I think you love Esme," my mother continues talking to Nana Cullen.

Esme snorts.

"You do, do you?" Nana Cullen says to my mother. "What makes you think that?"

"I think you have to love her because your son is completely in love with her. She is the mother of your grandchildren and obvious love of his life. I haven't been around them a lot, but anyone can see that. Anyway…my point is that he loves her. And he is a part of you and because of that simple reason…I know that you must love her."

Nana Cullen doesn't really say anything. She just sits there staring at my mother. My mother doesn't flinch. She sits there calmly, as if she hasn't just called out the matriarch of my new family. I wonder if she and Jasper smoked pot together before she came here today.

She wouldn't have done that.

_Would she?_

"Now, I'm not expecting you to have some emotional moment filled with love and hugs and kisses," my mother says. "It's enough for you to just know. But this day is about my daughter. I'm sure she would love to open your gift. Although, I think it might be hard to top Esme's gift. I personally really loved that one. And I gave Bella an all-expenses paid getaway to Charlie's gun closet. What did you get her, Nana Cullen?"

She hands me a small rectangular box and just as I'm about to open it, my mother speaks again.

"Oh…and Alice?"

"Yes, Renee?"

"Jasper is all man, sweetie. I adore him…and his crystal. I'm pretty sure it's as big as Charlie's gun. Good for you, sweetie!"

Oh…sweet lord.

The most amazing thing happens. As soon as the words leave my mother's mouth, Nana Cullen lets out this long, guffawing laugh. It's deep and throaty and her smile is more genuine than I've ever seen.

"Renee?" she says. "I like you."

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**EPOV**

"Dude. Seriously. You didn't know?" Emmett scoffs at me. I'm used to this reaction, but it still grates on my nerves. "He brought you a fucking corsage!"

"It was just a flower," I retort.

"For your wrist," he says with a snort. "I was waiting for him to offer you a promise ring. Although I have to say, those dudes have good taste. I got more free drinks and numbers than at any straight bar," Emmett boasts. "How many did you get? Rose thought it was hot that I was man-candy. She really went to town on my candy ca-"

"Six," I interrupt with a sigh. "And a very lucrative offer for some nude modeling."

Emmett grumbles "figures he'd get more" and "pretty boy" before continuing to eat.

We are sitting in a restaurant (a normal one, not one that looks like Larry Flynt decorated it) eating breakfast. The purpose of our meeting is to plan my bachelor party. Emmett will need parameters (because I really don't want to wake up in Tijuana with a missing kidney - I saw a very disturbing Nightline about organ harvesting - and there definitely wasn't a sterile environment).

"Emmett, I told you that I didn't know Michael was gay - not that it matters," I reply. "Glee Night" at The Backdoor (which I finally went to) turned out to be something other than a show tune sing-along. It was actually sort of fun (I made many new friends) until Michael got annoyed when I didn't want to "vogue" with him.

"He was gazing at you all night...he must do that at work," Emmett insists as he downs a stack of pancakes. "And I use the term 'gazing' very lightly. It was actually eye-fucking."

"He's, um," I stammer. I recall several times when he winked at me or giggled at my comments - ugh, that should have been a sign - only Bella thinks I'm funny. "He is very attentive at work. He wants me to show him some new techniques."

Emmett starts coughing frantically - he did eat a rather large sausage - and he chokes out something that sounds like "fellatio" and "salad tossing." His face alternates between panic and annoyance as he continues to cough.

"Dude," he sputters, "You didn't even give me the Heimlich! What the fuck?"

"You didn't require it, Emmett, you were still able to cough and communicate. That means you were not in danger. If there was something lodged in your airw-"

He interrupts me, "Never mind. I don't want a fucking tutorial. Unlike Mikey, I don't care that much about what goes in or comes out of your mouth. Let's talk about your party. I'm thinking togas, strippers, and Patron," he declares with a smile. Fantastic. I'll be in jail for my wedding.

Before I can put the kibosh on the planned debauchery, Jasper arrives. I'm sure he has specific feelings about my party, too. Somehow I think I'll have to choose between chanting and chugging.

"Hey, Professor Free Love, can you please tell Edward that we need booze and boobs at his party?" Emmett complains. Jasper bows and shakes our hands to greet us. Emmett rolls his eyes and mumbles, "How is Edward the 'normal' one in this family?"

"Alcohol does have a place in many ceremonies, Emmett. But I was thinking about a Native American sweat lodge ritual. We can-"

"Oh, hell yes, Jasper! A fucking hot tub and we can gamble at the Reservation Casino! That is great idea." Emmett fist bumps a surprised Jasper.

"That's not exactly what-" Jasper says before I interrupt him.

"No hot tub, Emmett. I only go in a hot tub with Bella. And no strippers or casino," I insist. Why would I want to see any other woman? I'm marrying my dream girl. My mind drifts back to the particularly hot escapade the night of her graduation. Damn. I don't want to get aroused in front of Emmett.

"You are such a buzz kill," he replies, shaking his head sadly. "This is my last chance, Edward. Once the baby comes, I'll be elbows deep in shit and piss. Rose already threatened my balls when she started with the morning sickness."

"What exactly did you expect, Emmett? I can recommend some pregnancy books for you or send you some links."

"Oh, please no more research, Edward. I couldn't get it up for a week after the childbirth video...and it was another week before I could touch Rose's pu-"

I cough loudly to stop him from sharing his, um, intimate details.

"Pregnancy is a natural and beautiful time, Emmett," Jasper says.

"Yeah, the barfing is fucking beautiful," Emmett retorts. "And it's pretty fucking natural."

I roll my eyes at his theatrics. "Can't we just have a simple dinner, Emmett?"

"So, let me get this straight...you want to have, like, some pizza and then to make Chief Hemplover happy we are going to walk over fire or some shit while wearing body paint? Can we at least smoke some peyote? I mean, damn. This is probably my last bachelor party. Although Quil and Paul invited me to theirs...but I don't want to see a Jake Gyllenhaal look-a-like in a thong." Emmett is rambling but I have no comment. I mean, what do you say to that?

"We can have whatever food you prefer, Emmett, but no strippers."

"You know that Bella is going to be reverse cowgirling some dude in assless chaps at her party, right? Rose is planning something crazy because she didn't have one...due to being all knocked up and shit from my powerful load. You know that my swimmers broke through a condom and the pill." Emmett actually looks proud that their birth control methods were unsuccessful.

I look up "reverse cowgirl" on my phone and I'm disturbed. My mind wanders to Bella on some strange cowboy's lap and I become enraged. "You call your wife right now and insist upon a proper party for Bella," I demand.

Emmett laughs. "Yeah, because Rose is going to do what I tell her to. You'd have to do the ball reattachment surgery after that phone call."

I seethe in my chair. The thought of Bella with another man is painful. I know she'd never betray me, but I'm still upset. "She can't ride anyone but me!" I insist, too loudly for the restaurant. The waitress winks at me and I avert my eyes.

"Dude, this is why you need to do something good! She's going to be stuffing bills down some stud named Chad's g-string while you're sipping a Shirley Temple and playing chess? What the fuck is that? This is your chance to go balls out!" Emmett exclaims.

"That could be dangerous, Emmett," I chastise him. "The scrotum is very sensitive."

Emmett rolls his eyes and bumps his head on the table. He mumbles something like "same Edward, even though he's getting laid." He cocks an eyebrow at me and asks, "So what, then?"

Jasper answers before I can. "I can get some peyote, Emmett. It's the good shit." Emmett grins and fist-bumps Jasper. He shakes his head at me.

"Fucking Edward. Even Jasper is cooler than you. And he's wearing a fucking blanket."

This is not going to be good.

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I had Googled "bachelor party" and I have some research to share. As I pass out the binders, Emmett scoffs at my efforts. "What happened to the PowerPoint?" he asks, rolling his eyes. He does that often - I should look up the long-term effects of such movement. When I hand him my flash drive, he starts laughing.

"What?" I reply. "Do you want me to email it to you?" Emmett sighs and opens his binder.

We finally decide on a venue and an activity after an extensive discussion...and a few tears (Emmett says he got dirt in his eye).

The vetoed ideas:

Strip club (for obvious reasons).

Cigar and brandy party (health reasons)

Bowling (Emmett said he wasn't going to touch balls all night)

Fishing (I didn't want to look incompetent in front of Charlie)

Strippers and porn house party (like that was going to happen)

Hunting (Jasper threatened a sit-in demonstration to protest)

Vegas (This is the discussion that brought about the aforementioned tears- I have a pic of him on my phone)

Dancing (I didn't want to "shake that ass" with anyone except Bella)

Indian Casino (Jasper went on a lengthy rant about the white man's oppression of Native Americans - and Emmett was still pouting about Vegas)

So we choose billiards and karaoke. Emmett and Jasper are going to handle the arrangements. I feel somewhat comforted as Jasper seems to be a calming influence on Emmett. It could be the hemp, but I'm not sure. I just plan to show up and try to maintain a modicum of civility. Emmett had made me watch some movies about bachelor parties - it was disturbing. I don't want to end up missing a tooth or with tiger in my bathroom. And I have no aspirations at all to meet Mike Tyson.

Since Emmett fears for his manhood, I try to talk to Rosalie and Alice about Bella's party. Needless to say, I am unsuccessful. Apparently, I am trying to "control" Bella and am forbidden to complain. Rose is quite forceful now that she is pregnant. Now I understand Emmett's tears.

I know that my jealousy is unfounded, as Bella would never be unfaithful, but guys are "fucking perverted" (Emmett's words). He says Rose is off limits because she has a "bun in the oven" and Alice is married, but Bella is "fucking hot" (his words, my sentiments) and single. He is crass, but also very astute. I'm quite sure I don't want drunken losers or any of the members of "Thunder from Down Under" to touch my fiancé, but I can do nothing about it.

Emmett says I should try to knock her up and then she won't be able to do anything.

What a ridiculous idea...I barely even consider it.

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A month later I'm buttoning my shirt and waiting for Emmett. He's coming to pick me up. He arrives a few minutes later - wearing a t-shirt that says "Best Man on so many levels" and carrying another one with a ball and chain printed on the front and "Game Over" on the back for me. Yeah, that's not happening. Not only do I feel the complete opposite of the sentiments adorning the shirt, it's not even one hundred percent cotton.

Emmett doesn't make too much of a fuss when I refuse the shirt. He knows I would never wear that. We drive over to Alice and Jasper's to pick him up since I have moved into our new house and no longer live down the hall from them. He is, surprisingly, wearing a shirt and not his usual ethnic costume. Emmett voices his approval immediately. "All right, Jasper. You almost look normal. If you ditched the hubcap around your neck, you could look hot. Not as hot as me...but at least you aren't a total cockblock."

Jasper bows - I'm used to it by now - and chants something under his breath. I hope it's something that will keep us out of trouble tonight. Obviously I don't believe in his new age ideas, but with Emmett running my bachelor party I need all the help I can get.

When our entire party (my dad joins us and also a few doctors from the hospital) is securely ensconced in the enormous stretch Hummer limousine that Emmett hired for the evening, he serves drinks to all of us. Everyone is taking shots and laughing. I'm trying to decide what is more offensive - the music he's blasting or the pornographic DVD running on the multiple flat screens. I'm probably the only one who feels that way because even my own father is singing along..."_I love it when you call me big pop-pa, throw your hands in the air if youse a true player..."_

"Esme gave me that nickname," my dad smirks. "That's what she calls my di-"

"Oh Christ," I moan.

"Fuck yeah, Big Poppa C!" Emmett yells. My head is in my hands when my father starts singing some song about a dog named "Snoop." Somehow I know it's not about the white beagle from that Christmas special.

"Loosen up, Edward. This is your one and only bachelor party. Have some fun," my dad insists. "Besides, stress is bad for the sex drive."

"Word, Big Poppa. Dr. Downer is killing my buzz. Have a shot, for fuck's sake," Emmett orders. I take a deep breath and I relinquish control (not completely - that would be ludicrous) but enough that I can have a good time. My marriage is something to celebrate - within the normal parameters of common decency, of course.

I just thought we'd be toasting with champagne. Not drinking something called a "wet pussy."

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We attract a lot of attention when we walk into the bar. It's probably because Emmett points and shouts, "This fucker is getting married. Ladies, you missed out!" Did I mention that Emmett is not known for his subtlety?

The bar is actually quite nice. I was expecting to have to wipe down everything, but it appears to be sanitary. Emmett has done well, it seems. The drinks and food are plentiful and everyone is enjoying the pool tables and various games. I see no giant cakes with women popping out of them or scantily clad strippers gyrating to Whitesnake songs (the movies and internet have really broadened my knowledge of bachelor parties). He has actually listened to me and I begin to relax and enjoy myself. Well, not that much. Bella isn't here. She makes everything better. I text her to tell her I'm ok and I love her. She responds right away.

"**I'm glad the bar isn't horrible. I miss you, too. And you know I love you. BTW, I have a penis in my mouth**_." _

Ok. I was definitely not expecting that response. I know it's not a real penis because Bella only wants mine (she's made that abundantly clear) but I wonder what sort of nastiness my sister and her best friend are perpetrating with my future wife. I send her a response.

"_Even though I'm in top physical shape, I can still have a heart attack. That's not funny." _

"**No, really Edward. It's a penis! You should see it! It's so cute...and funny! Although it's not nearly as big as yours. It doesn't taste as good either. But it's pretty good. The cherry juice helps**_." _

"_Are you drinking? Remember the chart I gave you."_

"**Yes! And this penis straw is adorable!" **

Thank god it's not a giant dildo. That would be worse. Right? But it's still disturbing that my sister gave my almost wife a rubber penis to put in her mouth. I text my sister.

"_Why is my fiancé sucking on a fake penis? What sort of shenanigans is going on? I'm not pleased, Alice." _

"_**Edward, OMG! How do you know that? And penis paraphernalia is all a part of the bachelorette party experience! You can Google it. :) "**_

"_I did Google it. The picture doesn't make it better, Alice. I'm not making Jasper excrete bodily fluids into plastic vaginas." _

"_**Edward, that is disgusting." **_

"_Exactly my point." _

Why is Alice only reasonable when it comes to her husband?

"_**Whatever. Why are you bothering me right now?" **_

"_I'm just objecting to your use of sexual props." _

"_**Jesus, Edward. She's not blowing it. She's just sucking it a little."**_

Somehow the fact that Bella is merely sucking on a rubber penis and not performing fellatio is supposed to comfort me. I see a bit more how her twisted logic meshes with Jasper's.

"_Let me repeat my strenuous objection. Just please take care of my fiancé."_

"_**She's fine. I promise." **_

"**Edward, did you forget about me?"**

"_No, I could never forget about you. I was texting Alice." _

Shit. Alice distracted me with penis and vagina texts.

"**Why were you texting Alice?" **

"_I wanted to make sure she wasn't making you do anything that would be uncomfortable." _

"**You mean like the outfit they tried to make me wear**_?"_

"_Please send me a pic of this outfit_**."**

When I receive the pic I'm filled with anger towards my sister and gratitude towards my fiancé for not giving in. While I would love to see her wearing this in our bed, it is not appropriate for company.

"Edward, get the hell off the phone and have another drink," Emmett booms. I put away my phone after texting a goodbye to Bella and take out my chart to calculate my approximate blood-alcohol ratio. Emmett grabs it out of my hand and tries to rip it up. "What the fuck? You had to laminate this shit?"

"In case it got wet."

Emmett sighs loudly in displeasure. He folds my chart into a paper airplane and flicks it across the room. He murmurs something like "pussy whipped" as he hands me a drink.

"Listen. You are going to get off the fucking phone, pull the stick out of your ass, and taste this 'slippery nipple.'"

Who names these drinks?

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Several shots of Patron later (I didn't enjoy the wet pussy or slippery nipple) I'm feeling rather good. My dad and I are playing pool with Emmett and Jasper. Usually I don't enjoy doing things that I'm not good at, but I am having fun. I don't "hang out" with guys. Only Emmett. But I've come to tolerate Jasper as long as he doesn't mention anything about new age medicine or having sex with my sister.

I send a few more texts to Bella (when Emmett isn't looking), but I participate in my party much to everyone's delight. Well, mostly.

"I'm not singing, Emmett. Hell no," I assert. I didn't have _that_ many shots.

"Fuck, Edward. Why are you such a pussy? I've already sung once and I'm going again. Even your dad is going to sing. Look, he's next."

Sure enough my father, the esteemed Dr. Carlisle Cullen, in onstage and he's singing..."Sexual Healing"? Oh, good god, he's doing a little shimmy. My mother would be appalled...ok, no, she wouldn't. I've heard this song coming from their room one too many times. She'd probably drag him into the bathroom and do things that I refuse to think about.

I groan as a group of women scream as my dad croons into the mic.

"Edward, your dad is so badass," Emmett says in awe. "I have a semi from watching him." I cannot respond to that comment. I merely glare at him. "Dude, I'm not fully hard, geez."

When he's done, my dad makes his way back to the table while fist-bumping and high-fiving admirers. He orders another round of shots. I'm now on the borderline of intoxication. It almost makes the second atrocious performance of "I Will Survive" bearable.

"Hey, Eddie. Watch this," Emmett gloats. "I signed up Jasper for a song. And it's not that one with those monks."

The karaoke host calls up Jasper to the stage, much to his surprise. Jasper is also close to legal intoxication according to my estimation of his height and weight. I didn't think he would drink, but the bar actually carried organic beer imported from some commune. I might be in favor of drinking in his case because I've actually enjoyed his company tonight.

"What song is he going to sing?" I ask.

"You'll see soon enough. I hope I bought 'Sir Chants A Lot' enough hippy beer to make this good."

Emmett yells and whistles when the music starts. Jasper looks a bit nervous, but when he touches the rather large medallion around his neck he calms immediately. And then he starts to sing...

Holy shit.

"Fuck. The Indiana Jones necklace has magic powers," Emmett says in awe.

He's not kidding. Jasper sounds incredible.

_I'll make love to you...like you want me to...and I'll hold you tight, baby, all through the night..._

Women are swooning. My mouth might be hanging open a little.

"All right. I've had enough." Emmett declares. I'm shocked that he's going to stop drinking. "I'm going to light up the stage now."

Of course. Emmett is highly competitive and cannot let Jasper have the best performance of the night. How could I think that he would stop drinking?

Jasper receives thunderous applause and a bra thrown on stage. I hope he doesn't touch it. I wouldn't want to have to spray him with sanitizer. He might be offended if it's not certified organic. My dad buys a round of "hippie beer" in his honor.

After Michael sings something called "Sexy Back," it's Emmett's turn.

"Hey everyone. I'm Emmett and it's time to get nasty, baby. Someone needs to video this shit because it's going to be better than all those losers on YouTube," he says with confidence. He then turns around and gets in position. For what, I don't know. Does he have choreography?

The music starts. It must be a popular song because girls (and Michael) are screaming. The reaction can't just be from Emmett swirling his hips. He turns and he's smacking his arms against his thighs and thrusting. I can't look...but I can't look away.

"Edward's just a bachelor...looking for a partner."

He looks like he having sex on stage. Not that I know what he looks like during intercourse - but I can infer. He's kind of fascinating. It must be the alcohol.

"If you're horny, let's do it...come ride it...my pony"

My dad is practically on the floor laughing. I pull him up because the floor is disgusting. Emmett must not concur as he is now humping the stage.

I hope someone _is_ taping this. There are really no words to do it justice.

"You have got to be shitting me. I know I'm not drunk because I've been drinking club soda all night instead of doing shots like you whores. Bella, is that my husband dry-humping the stage?" Rosalie's voice booms from somewhere behind me. I stand and my head snaps in her direction when she says my fiancé's name.

Her arms and legs wrap around me before I can take a breath. I'm lucky I work out because she jumps on me with some force. "Bella," I sigh.

"Are you surprised?" she asks as she kisses my neck and face.

"More like relieved. I missed you," I reply and return her kisses.

"I missed you, too…and I was thinking while I was sitting at the bar...you know, with that fake penis in my mouth...that I didn't want to be away from you anymore. And well..." she says with a blush, "...if there was going to be a penis in my mouth tonight, it should be yours. Besides, your 'cock' is so much bigger than that straw." She whispers "cock" loudly enough that Rosalie and my father both glance at us with smirks on their faces.

"Bella. You're making me aroused. And Emmett might think it's because of his performance."

"Well, Emmett's song is pretty arousing..." Bella sucks on my earlobe which is not helping with the reaction in my pants. "Do you...you know...want me to ride _your_ pony?" she whispers innocently in my ear and I groan against her neck. I'm glad she pressed against my erection because I don't want Emmett or my father to see it. They may have a comment or two.

"Always. Only you," I reply with a kiss. I sit down with her on my lap. What can I say, I like her on me.

We glance over as Emmett finishes his pornographic dance routine. All eyes are on his big finale. I didn't know Emmett was that flexible. Yeah, he's not. I see him grab his testicles and he flinches as he gets up. I know I'm not going to examine him there anytime soon.

He walks (with a slight limp) toward his wife who rolls her eyes before embracing him. He reaches over to bump fists with me and I have to let go of Bella to comply. Jasper, Alice, and my dad are clapping and laughing at him. Michael looks at him, well, the way he looks at me. Of course Emmett is proud at the reaction. He was trying to prove that he was better than Jasper. I laugh and turn back towards my Bella. All of my friends and family fade away as I focus entirely on her.

"Hey, Edward?"

"Yes, Bella?"

"I think you spilled some scotch on my shirt."

"What? I'm so sorry." I search her shirt for a stain. But I realize that I haven't been drinking scotch at all. I conclude that Bella is teasing and not drunk or confused and I decide to play along (I have loosened up over the past year and a half).

"Yes...I think you spilled some scotch on my shirt. And I'm not wearing a bra."

"Oh...um, I'm concerned about your areolae. Maybe I should examine them. Nipples, too."

"I think that maybe you should take me to the rest room. Just to be safe," she says in my ear.

"Yes. I can examine you thoroughly. To be safe." I wrap my arm around her and we sneak toward the bathroom.

"Okay, Dr. Masen. Oh...hey...you know what?"

"What?" I ask as I maneuver her into the bathroom. This is so unlike the last time. I have the same excitement but I'm not nervous or stuttering. Bella makes me sure of myself.

"I'm gonna be Masen soon, too."

My smile is so big, it's blinding (obviously untrue - I'm just trying to be descriptive). She had said before that she was keeping her name. This is the first time she's said she wanted to take mine. "That makes me really happy, Bella-soon-to-be-Masen." I lean her against the wall (which looks fairly clean) and start kissing her neck and grinding against her.

"Hey, why don't you two get a room?" a woman calls out as she exits the stall.

"I think that's what we were trying to do," Bella says, giggling.

When the woman leaves and I've checked under the other two stalls, we both relax. I assume the position I was in before we were rudely interrupted.

"Do you remember the first time we were in the bathroom together?" she says as I nibble on the skin below her ear.

"It's burned into my brain. Figuratively of course," I say against the warm skin between her breasts.

"We had a lot of firsts that night. Our first kiss…" She kisses me on my mouth.

"Our last first kiss…" I say, kissing her back. "Forever…Is that what you want, Bella?" I ask, looking deeply into her eyes.

"More than I've ever wanted anything," she says against my lips.

Someone pounds on the bathroom door, bursting our little love bubble. We both sigh.

"Okay, I think it's time to get out of here. After all, we have an empty house, a hot tub, and each other."

"I think you're right. I want to go home with you…_forthwith_." she whispers. Just as I'm about to lead her out of the bathroom, she stops me. "Edward? Did I ever tell you thank you?"

"For what?"

"For everything, really. But mostly…mostly for being the man that sent me an email about a recent sexual encounter. For asking me to get to know you. And for knowing…even when I didn't…that this was meant to be."

I don't say anything because her words are perfect.

She's perfect...for me.

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_**The End**_

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**End Notes**:

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Cosmogirl7481: So, who knew our dirty texting would ever lead to all this?

marvar: It's been a great year. Thanks to everyone who read our story. We have been thrilled to read all of the reviews and recommendations and tweets from you.

Cosmogirl7481: Truly, the way you guys loved these characters as much as we did, made this one of the best experiences ever. Second only to watching Twilight with marvar...for the hundredth time. *whispers* It never gets old.

marvar: How could Edward get old? That's not canon.

Cosmogirl7481: And lord knows...we were all about the canon. Especially Jasper's hair.

marvar: And we watched New Moon a crapload of times, too (I fast forward through the Jacob parts).

Cosmogirl7481: I didn't. I like Jacob's abs.

marvar: I know. But I still love you.

Cosmogirl7481: And I love you.

marvar: So that's all, peeps. We hope you like our ending and keep us on author alert because we are fich00rs and already have something planned.

Cosmogirl7481: And we will be posting a future take from LiMB in LiMBO next week.

*Cosmo and marvar commence snot sobbing*


End file.
